The Clock Struck One
by Gwen-Fox
Summary: When nine girls get adopted by a wealthy man, they feel as if their dreams have finally come true. But a further look into the dark hallways of the mansion begin to reveal something sinister, an ugly past that comes back to haunt them. AU. Clock Tower inspired. No solid pairings. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Well, I'm back again, with a new story that a good friend of mine and I are working on. It's a Clock Tower crossover, sorta. So for those who know about the game know what to expect, for the most part. ;D

The story starts out pretty tame. But it WILL get pretty messed up later on, so I'm going to rate this M for later chapters. Hopefully I'll get to submit them here.

Happy reading!

**The Clock Struck One**

**Chapter One**

"You said he had walked all the way here from…?" The caretaker, a woman in her mid thirties, trailed off with a look of astonishment on her already aging face. The person in which she was asking, a tall and slender man dressed in a business suit, hardly seemed fazed as he stared out of a one-way window into the guest room. His hair was dark, which had only made the few strands of gray stand out even more.

"The Tusspot mansion. It's fairly strange, but perhaps the friend of the wealthiest man in town would like to do business here." Sitting alone in the guest room was the man in question, appearing as well dressed as one would expect from the Tusspot family friend. He sat comfortably with his legs crossed, watching the news channel being displayed on the television screen with a blank stare. "We don't want to keep him waiting."

"Right, sir." With that said, the caretaker moved out of the darkened office and nervously into the guest room. The overseer continued to watch, already seeing dollar signs in his steel gray eyes.

"Good evening, Mr. Niccals," greeted the caretaker as she stepped into the nearly vacant room. The dark-haired visitor faced the young woman once being addressed, quickly standing to shake her hand with a warm smile. "How are you?"

"Evening to you as well. I'm glad you came so fast. The news is such a dreadful thing to watch sometimes." At Mr. Niccals's statement, the caretaker glanced quickly over to the television, which was now covering an investigation on a string of murders that have occurred in the local area. She looked back to the visitor again, a slightly forced smile appearing on her face.

"I see. Well, Mr. Murdoc Niccals, welcome to the Granite Orphanage. Are you interested in adopting a child today?" At the woman's recited inquiry, Murdoc gave a short, deep chuckle, bringing his arms behind him.

"It is not I who is adopting, I'm afraid. I am here in place of Mr. David Tusspot, who wishes to make a generous donation in return for a few daughters." The caretaker faltered a bit at hearing the olive-skinned visitor's explanation, moving a lock of dark brown hair out of her face.

"H-how many daughters would Mr. Tusspot like?" She questioned once more, trying to remain professional. The woman led Murdoc into the hallway that would take them to the children's location. "Would he like infants? Or one or two young children?"

"David would like nine daughters that are already capable of caring for themselves. Preferably in the teenage range." As Murdoc had expected, the caretaker whirled around to face him as if she had been struck from behind.

"N-NINE?"

"Yes. Will that be a problem? I can always adopt from another orphanage…" Murdoc, who had looked away from the woman, placed his eyes back on her with a seemingly grave expression. He had known how money-hungry the overseer of this facility could be, and how he would have his employees suck up to wealthy clients to weasel a pretty penny out for the kids' adoptions. It was a despicable practice, but it appeared to work well for them.

"Oh, not at all, Mr. Niccals. I'll take you straight to the older children's play room." A satisfied nod was all the caretaker needed to proceed. She led the way down the long, narrow hallway, its walls dark brown from the wood it consisted of. The light fixtures on the ceiling flickered every now and then, revealing the aged carpet and walls. Murdoc inwardly snickered at the sight, wondering why the place was in such disarray if they were apparently given so much money from clients, even though he knew the answer.

As the two made their way toward the adoptable children, the caretaker made her own assessment of the visitor from the Tusspot mansion. Despite being known by name throughout the town, no one really knew much more about him other than him being an old friend of Mr. Tusspot. She had remembered first seeing him about a decade ago, when the town saw more of the family itself. Now, he was all she and the rest of the town saw of the Tusspot family.

Eventually, Murdoc and the caretaker arrived at the old wooden door, the white paint on it peeling and flaking off. The woman pushed on it with significant difficulty, the hinges emitting a shrill squeak when it finally relented.

They were greeted by a large room brightly lit up by the sun outside, filled with countless children of all shapes, sizes, and colors. Some played, some lounged, and some conversed with groups of their friends. Seeing this brought a smile to Murdoc's lips.

"Most of the children here are within the correct age group Mr. Tusspot has requested. Are there any specifics that he would like as his daughters?" The caretaker asked, bringing out a clipboard to take the names of the ones he would choose. For a minute or so, Murdoc said nothing. The choking silence between them spurred the brunette to look back over to him, which was the apparent cue he was waiting for.

"He's looking for girls with… personality."

The caretaker appeared perplexed at Murdoc's answer, not entirely sure how to reply herself. Unfazed by her obvious confusion, the visitor inspected the room of children with a hand on his chin. In turn, many of the orphans kept on with their activities as if the two adults were not there.

"All of the children have personalities, sir…" The caretaker said lowly, a slight frown on her face. Murdoc glanced at her with a small smirk, his thick black fringe hiding his eyes partially.

"I'll know wot to look for when I see them." Murdoc began walking after he had spoke, the woman immediately following him. She was still unsure of the man's methods, but did not question him any further.

The black-haired visitor moved to a small room separate from the much larger play area. It had no door, so the inside was there for everyone to see. In the center, alone, kneeled a dark skinned teenaged girl wearing a simple summer dress. Her back was facing the two adults, but they could easily see that she was praying, as she is surrounded by numerous religious artifacts.

Without a word, Murdoc pointed to her and continued walking. The woman quickly jotted down the name Elsie on the first line and followed him.

The duo then walked farther into the play room, where the olive-skinned visitor spotted a group of girls out of the meager crowd in what appeared to be the kitchen area. There were four in total; three relatively thin girls appeared to be picking on the fourth, more rotund, girl.

The girl that stood in the middle of the three bullies was the obvious leader of them, with long black hair framing her pale face. Her protruding buck teeth ruins what possibly attractive features she might have had, but that did not stop her aggressive attitude. If anything, that may have been the main factor of her behavior.

To the left of the bucktoothed teen was an even thinner girl, with similarly colored hair to the leader, though it was much shorter. She was Asian in appearance, and her stance struck Murdoc as one of those who felt they were better than everyone else, which would explain her reason for being in this particular group.

The third aggressor differed vastly from the other two, with her long, straight blonde hair and very colorful makeup piled on her face. She stood slightly farther back than her companions, choosing simply to speak hurtful words than to have physical contact with their victim.

On the receiving end of this assault was the chubby brown haired girl. She wore square shaped glasses, and tied her medium length hair into a simple ponytail. Despite the three bullies teasing her, the overweight teen girl simply ignored their insults and continued to eat her sandwich, apparently used to such verbal abuse.

Seemingly satisfied with what he was seeing, Murdoc pointed to the group and told the caretaker he wanted all four of them. She held an uncertain look for a moment or two, but wrote down Paula, Maria, Lisa, and Rosie's names on the list. With five children claimed, the Tusspot family friend briskly moved on to find more.

Coming upon what was easily distinguishable as the television room, Murdoc peered in to see what kids currently resided inside. At first, he saw nothing that stood out or interested him, but just as he was about to continue on, he spotted two girls sitting in front of a TV in the far right corner.

One of them, a teen girl with wavy dirty-blonde shoulder-length hair, faced the other teen and began speaking to her in sign language. Her facial features shown excitement for whatever program they were watching. Her lime green eyes almost appeared to twinkle in emotion.

The other, her hair a light brown and braided into pigtails, watched the hand motions carefully. She too smiled, and answered back in the visual language. The freckles on her face seemed to add depth to her grin, her own dark blue eyes giving off the same twinkle as her companion.

Murdoc appeared overcome by this display of friendship, and eagerly told the caretaker that they were to be adopted as well. She heartily agreed on his decision, and happily scribed the names Karen and Imogene on the quickly growing list. With seven chosen, the dark-haired man carried on in his search for the final two girls that would be taken.

"Only two left to go now…" Murdoc mumbled as he and his brown-haired companion meandered through the play area. The caretaker said nothing in response, looking over the names on the page with some degree of uncertainty. Each of these girls had very conflicting personalities, and if they were to be lumped together in the same home…

"HEY! No fair! You're cheating!" A loud voice easily overpowered all of the other voices in the room, catching the adults' attention immediately. Following the source of the shout like a sailor would to a siren's deadly call, they were led to the game room. "No way! You can't DO that, you asshole!"

"_Gwen Summers_! How many times have I told you NOT to use profanity in this orphanage!" The caretaker scolded to a young redheaded teenager, no older than fourteen, who was playing a video game with another orphan. Surprised at having been caught, Gwen flinched and faced the brunette with a wince. "Where on earth did you even learn such language?"

"From youuu!" The redhead teased, turning back to the game. Not impressed with her response, the caretaker sighed and shook her head in both disbelief and disappointment.

"With behavior like that, you'll _never _be adopted." At this statement, Gwen visibly tensed and looked back at the caretaker with a menacing glare. The woman was not fazed by this, though, by now far too used to such looks from her. She then turned to Murdoc, who had kept quiet and observed the conversation. "I'm terribly sorry, sir. She is the only one who is _this _obnoxious."

"I'll take her."

"W-what?" The caretaker was not the only one surprised by Murdoc's simple reply. Gwen, still looking at the two adults, held a shocked look of her own. She did not get up from her spot, not even believing what she had heard.

"I said I'll take her. She's just wot I'm looking for." Having said that, the visitor took one last look over the play area he had combed through. Nothing more jumped out at him, much to his dismay.

Ever baffled at Mr. Niccals's mannerisms and orphans of choice, the caretaker woman wrote down Gwen's name on the eighth line on the list. At the same time, however, she was almost overjoyed to see the troublesome redhead go. _They're in for a hell of a time, looks like. _

"Well? Why are you just sitting there? Come, come!" Growing impatient at the lack of response from Gwen, the snippy brunette waltzed over to her and practically dragged her over to where Murdoc currently stood, staring out over the large area. The young redhead almost resisted in the woman's grip, her feelings mixed on the situation. It was all happening much too fast for her to comprehend. "Is there any more you would like, Mr. Niccals?"

"… No. I'm afraid that will be all." A blanket of dread fell over Gwen at hearing Murdoc's answer. She immediately thought of the friends she had managed to make in the orphanage. She did _not _want to give that up, even if that meant refusing a new family and home.

"NO! I don't wanna go with you!" The young teen shouted, backing away several steps from the two adults. The Tusspot family friend hardly reacted to her outburst, but the caretaker quickly grew annoyed with the behavior.

"Hush now! You're acting like a child!" The woman scolded bitterly, lowering her clipboard to her stomach. Gwen stared her down with a glare, but did not get a chance to shout back before the caretaker began again. "Would you rather leave Rosie with no friends to help her adjust?"

"Rosie…? She's getting…?" The brunette turned to Murdoc before Gwen could finish, wishing not to keep the visitor waiting. Time is money, after all.

"I'll go get the others, Mr. Niccals. Excuse me."

"Right then." Nodding at the dismissal, the caretaker sauntered off to gather the chosen girls. This left Murdoc and Gwen alone in an atmosphere of strained and awkward silence. Gwen, still unsure of the situation, looked up at the dark-haired man with an uncertain expression.

"Hey… what about Eve? Is she coming too?"

"Eve…?" Murdoc appeared perplexed, but in truth was not sure if he had picked her or not, and went to answer accordingly. Before he could, however, a soft, gentle voice called out from a short distance away.

"Gwen? Gwen, I couldn't find the game you wanted…" Turning to the source of the voice, both of them spotted an older teenage girl walking down a short flight of stairs toward them. She stopped midway once seeing Gwen standing next to a man not familiar to her, quickly noting the troubled look on the redhead's face. "Gwen… what's going on?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"Eve…" Gwen ran up to the taller girl, the frown on her face all too apparent in her features. When the black-haired teen asked for an explanation once more, the redhead tearfully continued. "Evelyn… that man over there is adopting me. And Rosie, too…"

At last let in on what was happening, Evelyn's expression fell to a faint look of sadness and shock. Her vibrant green eyes trailed down to the floor soon after, though she tried to put up a happy outlook for her friends' adoptions. She did not notice Murdoc watching from afar, taking in the reactions of the two girls.

"Oh. Well, it's good that you've been adopted. You've been here for so long…"

"But I don't _want _to go without you!" Gwen yelled, clearly upset over the situation. Caught up in their conversation, Gwen and Evelyn did not notice the olive-skinned visitor walk up to them.

He could tell from her stance, her actions, and her features that Evelyn was considerably older than most of the other orphans there, especially Gwen. Her dark wavy hair was drawn up in twin ponytails, its length reaching her mid back. Her skin was very pale, almost white, which allowed her hair color to stand out against it. Murdoc gave a small smile, remembering that there was still one slot left open.

"Now Gwen, you need not worry about me. What matters is that YOU will be getting a new home, with Rosie as well." Evelyn had intended to say more, but she was interrupted when she felt a hand gently grasp her shoulder. She looked over to the side the hand was, seeing the man she recognized as Gwen's adopter.

"Forgive me for intruding, but you're this "Eve" that Gwen speaks of?" The pale skinned girl nodded once, looking slightly unsure of the well-dressed adult. The hand on her shoulder tightened only slightly, going along with the warm grin on Murdoc's face. "You two seem to be very close. It would be heartless of me not to adopt you as well."

Both Evelyn and Gwen were instantly overcome with shock. This man, whom they knew nothing about, was generously taking in an extra daughter with reasons only being that he did not wish to separate them. From their experience in that orphanage, things like that did not occur often. With astonishment and awe clearly evident on their youthful faces, the orphans happily expressed their gratitude for Murdoc's kindness.

"Thank you so much. This means a great deal to me," Evelyn politely stated, her eyes shimmering with a faint hint of joyful tears. Ever since her arrival at the Granite Orphanage, the black-haired youth dreamed of one day being with a family once again. As the years passed, she had begun to wonder if that dream would ever come true.

On this blustery September day, it finally did.

"Mr. Niccals, they're all here," called the caretaker woman as she led the seven other girls Murdoc had chosen over toward him, Evelyn, and Gwen. Seeing the redheaded teen, the one named Paula crossed her arms with a scowl.

"Oh great. Shorty's coming too?"

"Oh great. Your face is coming too?" Gwen fired back with just as much malice in her tone as the older dark-haired teen. The two exchanged hateful looks to each other, but it did not escalate any further than that.

"Ah yes, the whole family is present." Murdoc gleefully announced, his rough English accent catching the girls' attentions. He then turned to the caretaker as a sudden thought dawned on him. "Would you be so kind as to add Miss Evelyn's name to the list? That would complete the total of nine daughters that Mr. Tusspot had requested."

"Mr. Tusspot?" The one named Imogene inquired, tilting her head slightly with narrowed eyes. Her confusion was not hers alone.

"You're not our new father?" This time Maria was the girl who spoke, sharing her question with all of the other girls Murdoc had picked out. Realizing that the newly adopted teenagers had not been informed yet, the dark-haired man jovially chuckled and turned back to the small crowd.

"No, no, my dears. I am a family friend of the Tusspots, and I am here today on David's behalf." A collective wave of chatter arose in the group of girls, briefly discussing the information they had just received. After a few seconds, Murdoc outstretched his arms to each side, as if he was preparing to hug someone. He kept his grin as he spoke again. "Well? Wot are you lot waiting for? Pack your things, we're going home!"

With smiles and shouts of joy, the adopted teenagers hurried off to their rooms to pack, all too glad to leave the orphanage they had called home for so long. The only one that seemed to lag behind was Elsie. She made her way at her own pace, her Holy Bible clutched affectionately against her chest, clearly not feeling as enthused as her new sisters. Within the minute, though, she was out of the play area and en route to her room as well.

Rosie could not believe how fortunate she felt she was.

For the longest time, she had been convinced that she would never get picked by any potential parent that would wander into the orphanage. She had it set in her mind that because she differed in weight from most of the orphans, no parent would want her. But her views were changed forever when Mr. Murdoc Niccals came to visit the Granite Orphanage.

_Not only that, but both of my best friends will be coming with me! _It was yet another thing she felt lucky to have happened, having her two friends Gwen and Evelyn become her sisters. It was not often that your most cherished friends would be related to you as well.

With what little belongings she had now packed, Rosie slung the book sack over her shoulder and rushed to the open doorway of her now old room. Adjusting her glasses, the brunette took one last look at the small space she had called her home, her sanctuary. She was moving on to a newer, and hopefully better, place. All too eager to step into her fresh start, Rosie stepped out of the room and into the lobby, where Mr. Niccals would be waiting.

Paula was glad to be leaving this shit hole, but hated the circumstances of which she was forced under in doing so.

Sure, she would be living with her best mates, Maria and Lisa, but at the same time, she would have to deal with the rest of the losers Murdoc picked. On top of that, the bucktoothed teen would have easily taken living with them if it meant Gwen would not be going. The little redhead has always been such a pain in her side ever since she had arrived in this blasted orphanage. A rivalry, one can say.

Still, the fact that Maria and Lisa would be joining her did not make it all so bad. If anything, it meant that she could mess with the others on a daily basis, just like old times. A smirk spread across her pale face; perhaps being adopted by this Tusspot guy was not as dreadful as she thought.

Imogene was right proud of being picked for adoption.

She had yearned to be a part of a normal, proper family, just as she had been when her folks were still alive. The light brown haired teen had always wished that her parents had not moved to England; once they had died, she was stuck in the country where her relatives in the United States could not get to her. That is, if her relatives even know of her whereabouts in the first place.

To add to her good fortune, her deaf friend Karen had been picked as well. Sign language was not an easy method of speaking to learn, and no other children in this orphanage knew it but her. She would have been mighty devastated if she had to leave the poor girl behind.

Taking out a cream colored ten gallon hat and placing it firmly on her head, Imogene grabbed her bag and hurried out of her small room to meet up with Karen and the others.

Lisa had not quite followed exactly what was going on, but judging from the other kids' reactions, it must be totally dope!

She did get the gist of the situation, though. She was getting adopted, and with her best pals she has ever had the privilege of hanging out with, even. The blonde was not one to really believe in things such as luck, but she felt she could definitely make an exception this time. The only thing she did not get was why so many of the other girls looked so excited. Are they getting adopted, too?

"Oh well! I'll find out later, I guess," Lisa cheerfully said as she finished filling her pastel pink backpack with all of her beauty products and other belongings. After strapping the pack over her shoulders and attempting to fix the wrinkles in her ruffled skirt, Lisa happily skipped out of her old room and made her way toward the lobby nearby.

It was about damn time that Maria had gotten chosen for adoption.

She had never really experienced a regular family life, since she had been abandoned as an infant on the doorsteps of this particular orphanage. But that did not stop her from believing she was the best of the best, and would have no problems getting picked by admiring parents. For some odd reason, that never happened until now, and she did not even try using her charm this time!

The Asian teen was a little put off by the vast number of girls that Murdoc had chosen, but she would rather go with her friends Paula and Lisa than to stay here. It just was not worth it.

Elsie would have liked to feel blessed at being adopted, but for some reason she just could not.

What bothered her about the whole ordeal was basically Murdoc himself. She could not put her finger on it, but she did not feel very comfortable with his presence. Perhaps it was because she had never gotten to really know him first, and that being picked out of the blue sort of unnerved her. As time passed and she allowed herself to reflect over it, the religious teenager eventually chalked it all up to nerves. She was nervous of this man, that was all. That was all…

_Holy Father, please bless my journey into the unknown. Guide me with your vast and holy kindness, mercy and love. Amen. _Opening her honey brown eyes, Elsie stood from her previous kneeling position and began packing her things. She did not have much, owning only a few dresses, a Bible, and a golden crucifix that belonged to her mother.

Once packed, the dark skinned teen stood at the doorway while still facing the room she had been living in for several years. She brought her hands together and shut her eyes for a brief moment, and hesitantly made her way down the hallway that would lead her to the lobby ahead.

Karen was happy to have been adopted, but was even more glad for the others who had been chosen as well.

The green-eyed sixteen-year-old, although deaf, had been told of many of her fellow orphans' back stories of how they ended up in this very orphanage. All of the different tales fascinated her, and she would have known none of them if it were not for her good friend Imogene.

She was very fortunate that someone like the US native was present in the adopting facility, as only she and her friend were the only ones that knew sign language quite well. Karen was not entirely sure how a girl born and raised from the farm would know something like hand language, since she had never asked her. The thin teen did not let that bother her, though, since she would have plenty of time to ask her.

Her belongings securely bagged, Karen hurriedly darted out of her bedroom to meet up with all of the other girls, her new sisters.

Gwen did not know what the hell to think of the situation.

One moment, she was enjoying her day like any other, and the next, she was getting adopted out of the blue. At first she was under the impression that Murdoc was only taking her; the redhead was relieved to find out her two best friends were coming, too. She would not have left otherwise, not wanting to be separated from Evelyn and Rosie.

What still bothered her, though, was that the troublesome trio Paula, Maria, and Lisa would be adopted by this Tusspot guy as well. Gwen could already see that this experience was going to royally suck.

_I'll just have to deal with it, I guess. Eve and Rosie will be there too, after all. _The youngest of the adopted girls told herself with her dark gray eyes narrowed, her focus on her backpack as she filled it with her meager belongings. Once it was filled to its maximum capacity, Gwen slung the pack over her shoulder and hurried out of her old room. It was time for a new chapter in the redhead's life, and she could not wait to get started.

Evelyn was all too excited to be headed to a new home.

One would usually be unsure about the people that would be adopting them. Technically, Murdoc was not going to be their father, but the kindness displayed from the dark-haired man gave her the hope she needed for her new family. Had she not have walked in when she did, the oldest of the orphans probably would have not been adopted at all.

Evelyn folded her clothes neatly before putting them away in her wheeled suitcase, her joyous expression never leaving her face. She could not remember exactly how long she had lived in the orphanage, but she felt it had been long enough. Even better yet, her two best pals Gwen and Rosie will be her sisters, which came as a pleasant surprise.

Gwen, with her rowdy nature, did not make much of a suitable candidate for adoption, which would explain her very extended stay in the orphanage. But in the back of her mind, Evelyn had a feeling that the redhead's behavior was overbearing on purpose, so that she would not have to leave her friends behind. Evelyn felt the same; she would much rather see her friends adopted first than to leave them here.

_But we're all together, and that's what matters. _With that thought in mind, the pale teen grabbed her bags and headed out of her old room. From this point onward, she knew that her and the other girls' lives will be changed forever.


	3. Chapter 3

Forgot to add an author's note last time. XD

Still a little boring, I know, but it gets better later on, trust me.

Gorillaz belong to Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett

**Chapter Three**

"Everything is in order, then," the overseer, a man hardly seen by clients, stated calmly as he, the caretaker woman, and Murdoc waited for the girls to arrive, eyeing the visitor almost hungrily as thoughts of the amount of money that would be coming in swam in his head. He stood as straight as an old gray plank of wood, attempting to stand tall over everyone in the room as some sort of ploy to impress his client. He did not seem to notice that Murdoc hardly looked his way.

"Yes. Make the payment out to David Tusspot. The amount you request will certainly be there," the dark-haired man replied in a seemingly bored tone of voice, his eyes and attention locked onto the closed door that the girls would come barreling through any minute soon. After a few seconds of stagnant silence, Murdoc continued. "Surely that money will go to good use, eh?"

The overseer visibly stiffened at the question, but it quickly shifted back to his stance from before. The caretaker, a frown on her powdered face, looked over to the aging orphanage owner. Eventually he shrugged the matter off, and turned to his awaiting assistant.

"Amanda, would you kindly take care of the paperwork?" The brunette's faded hazel eyes sailed to the floor, and she nodded silently and stepped out of the waiting room and into the office. This left the two men standing alone, the quiet once again hanging over them like a thick fog. Shifting only his eyes, the overseer looked at Murdoc with some sort of contempt, as if he was the only one who knew of the unsavory practices his facility utilizes. "I do hope the Tusspots enjoy their nine little bundles of joy."

And without so much as a second glance, the overseer was gone.

"I'm sure they will, asshole." Murdoc's parting words to the orphanage owner went unheard, but it satisfied him nonetheless. Only seconds after the well-dressed man had spoke, several of the teenagers he had picked out for adoption burst into the lobby, all too eager to get out of the one place they have called home for so long. "Ahhhh, there are those beautiful faces. Is everyone here?"

"Ever'one but Elsie." Imogene replied informatively, taking a glance at the door that she and the others had come through. A few of the adopted girls turned to look at the door as well, as if staring at it would make the religious teenager pick up her pace. After some chatter amongst the group, Elsie at long last made her appearance.

"Geez, you take longer to get ready than Lisa…" Maria mumbled with a sneer, her eyes narrowed at the dark-skinned girl. In turn, Elsie did not appear at all fazed at her comment, perhaps not even hearing it at all.

"Well now, since we're all present and accounted for, let's head off, shall we?" Murdoc paused to hear the girls' responses to his inquiry. Once met with a unanimous and enthusiastic YES, the ten of them stepped out of the orphanage and into the brisk and refreshing September air outside.

Much to their surprise, instead of a vehicle waiting for them, the adopted teenagers were met with an empty parking lot. Seeing that Murdoc was not affected by this turn of events, having begun walking ahead of them, a few decided to voice their concerns on the matter.

"Uh… Mr. Niccals? There doesn't appear to be a car here…" Rosie stated tentatively, shuffling her feet a little as she spoke. There was a low resounding snicker that was heard from somewhere in the group, but before anyone could comment on Rosie's observation, Gwen spoke up first.

"Yeah, did someone jack it?"

"I must apologize, girls. Our limo has broken down in the past few days, and is currently in the shop," the dark-haired man explained after ceasing his walk to look back at them, a faint hint of a sorrowful expression in his rugged features. This news brought mixed reactions from the girls, but they said nothing on it. "Therefore, we will be walking to the mansion."

Most of the girls gave a collected and unified "Aww" in response, not entirely thrilled at the idea of walking to their new home. But when Murdoc began on his trek once again, the small crowd of teenagers grudgingly followed.

. . .

After well over an hour of walking, the group of ten were finally able to spot the mansion's clock tower rising just barely above the tops of the trees surrounding it. Murdoc proudly pointed this fact out, and the relief on the girls' faces were almost tangent. The house that they would be living in was almost a mile away from town, situated in a thick evergreen forest choked with shrubbery and pine.

The thought of such isolation brought both wanted and uneasy emotions, but the teens did not state their feelings either way. They were much too tired to.

"What is Mr. Tusspot like, Mr. Niccals? Is he nice?" Evelyn questioned with an eager expression, looking up at Murdoc with a small smile. These inquiries earned her a short, throaty chuckle from the Tusspot family friend, he too placing his dark eyes on her.

"Evelyn, this is the fifth time you've asked!"

"GWEN! Stop kicking rocks at me!" cried Paula from behind them, having turned to glare at the youngest girl of the group. The redhead, barely tired and hardly fazed at the darker haired teen, openly mocked her before heading to the front of the caravan. She slowed her pace once she caught up to Murdoc and Evelyn walking in the front. Paula, much too exhausted to keep up her glare, said nothing more to her.

"I know, and I'm sorry. I'm just too excited, I guess," said Gwen's green-eyed friend, replying to the earlier exclaim from Murdoc. Keeping his gaze straight ahead, the olive-skinned man retained his small grin.

"There's nothin' wrong with that, love."

"Yeah, Eve! We're all excited about this place, right guys?" The youngest looked back over her shoulder at the rest of the girls, who did not appear as enthused as she had hoped. Her own enthusiasm dwindling at the pitiful sight, Gwen turned forward again and readjusted her ponytail drawn up to the left side of her head. "Yup, we're jumping for joy."

"We're almost there. This road will take us right to the mansion," Murdoc stated calmly, holding out his hand to Evelyn. She placed her eyes on it for a moment, as if wondering what the gesture was for. But once seeing the warm and inviting expression on the man's angular face, she placed her hand in his with a smile. Gwen observed this from the other side of Murdoc, a brow raised slightly in apparent bewilderment. "You lucky girls will be in the lap of luxury in no time. Just a little ways more."

His words of encouragement seemed to rejuvenate the spirits of the tired girls once again, their faces brightening at the thought of what lie behind the elegant doors of the Tusspot mansion just ahead. In light of the uplifting vibe, Murdoc looked over at the preteen walking on his other side and held out his other hand.

Gwen, still not knowing what to make of the well-dressed man, declined his offer by shaking her head in refusal. This action brought a questioning look to Murdoc's face, which then shifted to a playful devious expression.

"What's this? NOW you want to be shy?" The redhead gave a small pout at his inquiry, her dark bluish gray eyes narrowed slightly. Murdoc had still kept his hand held out to her, as if expecting her to take it. But before she could take any further action, she was shoved away by an overly eager Paula.

"_I'll _hold your hand, Mr. Niccals," she said as she clasped her hand in his, looking endearingly up at him. The dark-haired man appeared surprised at first, having not expected her to do that, but it soon ebbed away and he looked ahead once again.

Satisfied with the outcome of her task, Paula looked over her shoulder at Gwen with a smug sneer. The redhead glared back, but was not really bothered at what the bucktoothed teen had done. Instead, she moved farther back in the group to meet up with Rosie, who was trailing behind.

"Hey Rosie, you holdin' up okay?" Gwen asked, a concerned frown in her features. Rosie, her cheeks as red as her namesake, managed an exhausted smile at her friend.

"I'm fine. I'll make it."

"You're out of water…" Gwen noted, pointing to the nearly empty water bottle clasped in the brunette's meaty hand. Along the way, the group had stopped at a store to get everyone a bottle of the life-giving liquid. By this time, most of the girls' bottles had been drained of their contents. Without second thought, the redhead reached into her backpack to pull out hers, which was only half empty. "Here, you can have the rest of mine."

"Aw Gwen, thank you." The rotund brunette gladly accepted the redhead's offer, sucking down the warm clear liquid inside. She saved the last little bit for later, stuffing the bottle into a side pocket in her pack.

It was not too long after this incident when they at long last arrived at the mansion, its height easily towering over everything in the area. Lining the smooth paved road in which they were walking were lavishing and decorative gardens, showcasing countless amounts of flowers and shrubs. Butterflies and bees fluttered and hovered around the colorful plants, adding to the tranquil and beautiful sight. The newly adopted teenagers were stricken with awe and astonishment.

"And here we are. About time, eh?" Murdoc prodded with a chuckle, spotting the amazed looks on the girls' faces. All they could do was nod in agreement.

Evelyn could never have imagined she would be staying in a structure such as this mansion. Looking at it, she was reminded of the castles in the fairytales she had been told as a child. It stood three stories tall, and stretched almost as far as a football field. The chocolate brown coloring it sported seemed to make it blend in with the woods, allowing it to hide well within the earth toned area.

The most striking feature about this mansion, however, was the clock tower located near the front of the mansion. This tower stood taller than the rest of the house, seemingly able to touch the sky. The oldest of the adopted daughters wondered what purpose a clock tower as grand as this one was needed. Perhaps the old mansion was once a church of some kind?

"You girls look exhausted. Let's go inside and rest up." Murdoc's voice suddenly cut through Evelyn's thoughts, drawing her attention to him. His suggestion did not go ignored by the teen girls; most of them cheered and hurried through the elegant and well crafted front doors, all too eager to see the inside. The only ones that seemed to linger were Elsie and Gwen, one being apprehensive about the building, the other eyeing Murdoc and Evelyn, who were walking calmly towards them.

The black-haired teenager took in the sights around her at her own pace, an amazed smile planted firmly on her ghostly face. She saw Gwen up ahead waiting for them, and began walking a little faster. She too was eager to see the interior of her new home, leaving Murdoc behind in her excitement. As she approached, Evelyn noticed someone hunched over in the garden to her left.

Once she came closer, she saw that he was a gardener, quite heavy in build. His dark skin glistened with sweat in the sunlight, his face hidden by the shadow created by the bill of his hat. He did not seem to pay any mind to Murdoc's or the girls' presence, his focus entirely on pulling weeds from the ground. Seeing that he did not want to be bothered, Evelyn continued on toward the front doors.

She eventually met up with Gwen, and they both looked to Elsie, who stared up at the looming clock tower above them. She looked worried and uneasy, seemingly frozen in fear. Seeing this, Evelyn and Gwen approached her.

"Elsie, what's wrong?" the oldest of them asked, her expression mirroring the religious girl's. Hearing her question, Elsie slowly looked over at them, her eyes glazed over and fearful.

"God speaks to me… He doesn't like this place, and neither do I." Her soft spoken voice trembled as she poured her feelings out to her fellow adopted teens; she looked as if she was about to shed tears at any moment. Seeing their perplexed reactions, Elsie looked back up at the clock tower. "I don't like it… I don't like it…"

"You're just nervous, Elsie. It's a whole new life you're stepping into. In fact, I think most of the others are nervous as well," Evelyn stated calmly, softening her eyes at the slightly younger teen.

"Precisely. It's perfectly reasonable to be afraid of change," Murdoc spoke up as he finally caught up with the three, his hands tucked behind his back and a blank expression in his features. His gruff voice had grabbed the attentions of the teens; they turned to him with mixed reactions of their own. The well-dressed man then bent down to Elsie's level with an inviting smile. "All will be fine. You'll see."

"I accept your judgment for now, Mr. Niccals. I'm sorry for creating a scene."

"No harm done. Now, let us meet up with your new sisters so I may show you all around." Murdoc stood straight again after he had spoke, still keeping a faint grin. With all of them in agreement, he guided the two dark-haired girls inside. It was just as he was about to step in when he realized that they were forgetting someone. Glancing back at the front porch, Murdoc spotted Gwen looking out to the gardens nearby. She appeared to be watching the burly gardener currently working in them.

The Tusspot family friend made his way over to the redhead, addressed her, and gently brought her inside via holding her hand. A pout was clearly seen on the thirteen-year-old's face.


	4. Chapter 4

Can't say much this time. Well, perhaps I can. If you know where to look, there are quite a few instances of symbolism and hints as to what will happen later in these early chapters. Something to look for while you're reading these uneventful submissions, eh? :D

Gorillaz belong to Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett

**Chapter Four**

The main hall was no less grand than the view from outside. It was quite spacious, spanning as wide as a small house, decorated with various different kinds of paintings and sculptures. Many tall windows lined the walls, their maroon colored curtains drawn to let in the warm sunlight. Several couches, loveseats, and chairs were seen situated in seemingly random parts of the foyer, where most of the newly arrived girls currently sat as they waited to be shown to their rooms.

All eyes shifted to Murdoc, who came in with Gwen in tow. Once well into the large room, the youngest of the teens wrenched her hand out of his and scurried away. This display did not go unnoticed, a low ripple of laughter echoing throughout the room. The only one not amused at the occurrence, Gwen sat down next to a smiling Evelyn and crossed her arms, sulking.

"Is everybody in?" Murdoc asked the group, all of them answering yes in response. Satisfied, the dark-haired man adjusted his black tie with an unreadable look on his face. When he placed his eyes back to the girls waiting for him to continue, he spoke again. "Well then, I shall lead you to your rooms. I'm sure you'll all enjoy them."

He strode past them and headed for the long flight of stairs located to the right of the foyer, stopping only to turn and look back at the tired group of teen girls. Murdoc beckoned them and waited patiently for them to follow.

Imogene and Karen were the first two to approach him, soon being tailed by Paula, Maria, and Lisa. After coaxing Rosie out of her seat, she, Gwen, and Evelyn were right behind them. Elsie took up the rear, still quite apprehensive about the elegantly built structure she was in.

"Your rooms will be just down this corridor here. Bathrooms are located here and here. There is plenty of them should you all wish to use them at once," Murdoc stated in a soft tone, speaking as if he was reciting a line he has said many times. The group moved along after this demonstration, walking farther down the hallway to where their rooms would be.

Elsie's attention was more on the rooms and what lie inside than what Murdoc was saying, her honey brown eyes falling to a room with its door slightly ajar. Curiosity getting the best of her, the dark-skinned sixteen-year-old cautiously made her way over to it. With the group some distance ahead, Elsie pushed open the door farther to have a look inside.

The room was dark, caused by the blinded windows with their curtains lowered. What little amount of sunlight that managed to seep into the room provided the illumination that Elsie needed to see.

A queen sized bed was situated against the wall in the center, the dark wooden rods of the bed frame reaching up to support a set of curtains of its own. Next to the bed on the right, Elsie could see a nightstand with only a simple item on its surface. The sight that caught her attention the most, however, was the large metal crucifix hanging on the wall just above the bed. The overall view of the room brought a strange mix of comfort and foreboding.

"Elsie," called the deep, gruff voice of Murdoc, his tone firm. The religious teen had not realized she had walked farther into the room until she heard the well-dressed man behind her; she slowly turned to face him, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. "Elsie, I know this place may be comforting to you, but I'm afraid this room is off limits."

Watching from the hallway were the other adopted girls, curious as to what was happening. Most of them could see the room over Murdoc's suave form, most notably the large cross hanging on the wall.

"Uh oh… is Elsie in trouble?" Rosie, obviously concerned, wondered out loud, though her two friends next to her heard it well. They did not expect some of the other girls to hear her as well.

"Serves her right, wandering off in her own little world." Maria mumbled, her voice dripping in spite. Paula and Lisa cruelly agreed with her.

"Oh lay off. No one asked you." Gwen fired back with just as much venom, earning her three sets of glares sent her way. Nothing more was said on the matter, though, since Murdoc spoke up once more.

"Alright loves, head on off to your rooms now. Get unpacked and situated." Seeing that the ordeal was over with, the girls anxiously complied with their current caretaker's orders. Maria, however, could not seem to let the matter go, griping to her friends about how unfair it was that Elsie got off the hook. But once the three of them entered their new room and anchored themselves, their fixation on the ordeal faded from memory.

"Mr. Niccals," Evelyn called with a frown, grabbing Murdoc's attention. When he attentively addressed her in return, the oldest of the teenagers began again. "Why is that room off limits? If you don't mind me asking…"

Evelyn was not the only one curious to know the answer to her question; her friends Gwen and Rosie, along with Karen and Imogene, stuck around to hear what Murdoc had to say. Elsie, most likely bothered by what has happened, had briskly walked off and disappeared into a room alone. His eyes fixated on the doorway in which the religious girl had went through, Murdoc kindly replied to the inquiry.

"David Tusspot was once a married man, madly in love with his beautiful wife. A happy family they were," he began, closing his eyes with a short sigh. He paused for a minute or two, as if trying to compose himself. Feeling the sorrow from the olive-skinned man, the girls cautiously urged him to continue.

"What happened?" Imogene asked softly, her voice spurring Murdoc out of his reverie. Looking at them with eyes full of emotion, he carried on with his story.

"Rachel was stricken by an incurable illness seven years ago now. She did not survive, unfortunately." Each girl had their own reaction to this new information, but all of them were quite sad to hear such a thing. Murdoc tilted his head toward the room in which he had said was forbidden, directing the girls' attention to it. "David does not wish for anyone to wander into that room."

"I see, it makes sense now," Evelyn said in a solemn tone, her eyes to the carpeted floor. The four other girls remained respectfully silent, none of them really knowing what to say. "That's certainly a tragedy."

"Hey, where is this David guy, anyway?" Gwen suddenly blurted out, shifting the atmosphere of the area instantly. Despite her rashness, the girls knew that the redhead had a point. They had not heard nor seen any sign of their adopted father since they had arrived, and now wondered the same. Murdoc, he too reeling at the sudden change in pace, eventually answered her.

"He is away on business at the moment. He'll be gone for a few days," the friend of the rich family began, a bored look on his face as he replied. "That is why I was sent to adopt you all."

"Whaaat? That's messed up."

"I'm afraid that's just how it is, Gwen," Murdoc informed blatantly, tucking his arms behind his back. The redhead's disappointment was not hers alone; the other girls quietly shared her frustration. "Run along now. Your rooms await you."

They may have been put off by the news, but that did not stop the teenagers from rushing down the hall to get a look at their new chambers. Murdoc gave a low, hardy chuckle, and proceeded down the stairs to head back into the main hall while humming a catchy tune.

. . .

It went without saying that the girls were impressed with their new room. The size of it was remarkable, their beds spread just far enough apart so that their space would not crowd with another. There were even three in the spacious chamber, as if the room was waiting for them.

"I call the one on the right!" Gwen cried out with a grin before running over to her claimed bed and jumping on it. Her small form bounced a couple of times before coming to a stop on the soft mattress, which amused her greatly. Her two friends, both shaking their heads with small smiles, stepped into the room farther and claimed beds of their own. Evelyn took the bed in the middle, while Rosie's became the bed on the far left.

"Don't be jumping on the bed, Gwen. You could fall and hurt yourself." Evelyn warned with a faint grin, her tone not firm at all. The redhead appeared to ignore her, but did not disobey her friend.

"What a day, huh? I'm almost sad it's ending!" Rosie exclaimed soon after, having begun to unpack her belongings. Her enthusiasm was unanimously shared by Evelyn and Gwen, agreeing with her immediately. Looking out of a window to the left of her bed, the bigger brunette could see the sunset just barely, the trees obscuring most of the view. "But I suppose tomorrow will bring along an even better experience than today."

"I certainly hope so." Evelyn too looked out through the window near her bed, seeing the various bright colors painted across the sky. After a minute or so, she turned to see if Gwen was enjoying the same view, only to see that the young redhead had succumbed to the plush pillows and soft cotton covers. Her chest rose and fell with even breathing, a sign that she was now asleep. A soft giggle was heard from the oldest, and she stood to help Gwen under the thick sheets. "Looks like tomorrow is coming early for this one."

Rosie, too, let out a short, quiet laugh, having watched Evelyn tuck Gwen in. It was a familiar sight; the mature teenager had always brought the small child to bed ever since the redhead had arrived at the orphanage. Even now, at thirteen years of age, she was still receiving the motherly treatment from the kind and gentle Evelyn.

"We should take some hot, relaxing baths while she sleeps. We don't want to disturb her while we wait for nighttime to come." Evelyn suggested in a soft whisper, grabbing a set of pajamas and undergarments. Rosie readily agreed with her, gathering a set of night clothes as well.

"Yeah, I'll need it after such a long walk."

Their minds made up, the two teenagers exited their new room and headed toward where Murdoc had pointed out the bathrooms. They could already feel the warm water over their tired bodies.

. . .

Gwen, still sound asleep in her new bed, had begun to fidget and squirm. She kicked and writhed, the covers falling off of her partially. Soon after, the redhead fell still again, her breathing growing even just as before. It was easy to tell, from her movements, that Gwen was having a rather vivid dream.

The dream itself was not all that clear, appearing as if she was watching a snowy picture on a television screen. Figures could periodically be seen every now and then, but they were barely recognizable. Voices were even less audible than the figures were visible, the sounds coming out as jumbled, one-toned static.

Suddenly, there was a frighteningly clear scream, followed by the sound of metal scraping against metal…

The redhead was startled awake by her own dream, sitting up quickly when she did not recognize where she was for a moment. The room was dark, the sun having set nearly an hour ago. Regardless, Gwen eventually remembers her location and lays quietly back down.


	5. Chapter 5

Just a quick submission. Thanks to everyone who's read this story up to this point. It really means a lot!

Gorillaz belong to Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett

**Chapter Five**

She knew she deserved this; all of those long, dreadful years in that orphanage had made her begin to think that she did not. When Mr. Niccals came and picked her and her friends, it was like her savior had rode in from the abyss to save her, and for that, Paula was completely grateful.

She currently lay sprawled out on her soft new bed, a smile firmly planted on her pale face. Maria and Lisa were present in the room also; it is their room too, after all. Paula had taken the center bed, while Maria and Lisa claimed the right and left beds, respectively. Completely absorbed in the moment, the leader of the trio released a long, content sigh.

"This is the life, girls," Paula stated faintly, shutting her dark eyes with a smile. Maria, sitting on the floor next to her bed, and Lisa, she too lying on her bed, both nodded in agreement.

"All that waiting…" Lisa began, she too closing her bright blue eyes.

"It was all worth it," Maria finished, looking over at her friends with her narrowed dark brown eyes. Silence fell over the three soon after, all of them immersed in their blissful reverie. The light from the setting sun poured in through the windows, casting the room in a warm orange glow.

"Thanks to Mr. Niccals, for picking us," Paula suddenly spoke up, rising from her bed to have a gander at Maria and Lisa. They too looked her way, but said nothing before the dark-haired teen spoke. "He must've really liked us."

"It would've been SO much better if he hadn't picked those _losers, _too." Lisa's eyes narrowed as she glared at nothing in particular, crossing her arms with a small sigh. Her remark appeared to have brought their dislike for the other girls back to the surface, glares of their own showing up on their faces too.

Paula thought immediately of the redheaded youngster Gwen, along with her friends. It was dumb luck that fatefully brought them to the same adoptive family, but the bucktoothed teen did not let that anger her. She refused to see it as a curse; in her mind, Murdoc picked the other orphans just so she and her friends could entertain themselves.

"Don't let it get you down, girls. We'll have our moment to shine," Paula said with a small grin on her face, her eyes on the open doorway just ahead. Only seconds after she had spoke those words, she spotted Evelyn and Rosie pass by.

. . .

This room was perfect for them; it was the smallest of the rooms given to the girls, and Karen and Imogene gladly took it. Only two beds were in this chamber, set side by side, spaced about two feet apart. Portraits and other paintings hung in various locations on the walls, filling up the otherwise empty space. A small nightstand with a simple lamp was placed between the two beds, set against the wall. In the bottom right corner of the room, just out of the door's path when opened, was a simple television set for their entertainment.

"This place is jus' perfect…" Imogene said aloud, yet also spoke to Karen in sign language saying the same. The deaf teen joyfully agreed with her.

After tossing her bags to her bed on the right, the Southern-talking brunette crashed onto the soft mattress and blankets. A long, content sigh could be heard, though muffled slightly. Karen, witnessing this, giggled silently and did the same.

For a good ten minutes or so, the two only laid in their beds, taking in the sights, smells, and, at least for Imogene, sounds of their new room. The fiery reddish orange glow from the setting sun filled the quiet chamber, signaling to the teens that nighttime was quickly approaching.

The American never had any trouble believing that she could be adopted, her sunny attitude preventing her from thinking otherwise. For the longest time, the majority of her worry went to Karen. Her adopters, should they have chosen just her, would have to know sign language, or at least hire someone who does, just to communicate with her. She had always feared that the older teen girl would never be adopted if she were not there. It was only by good grace that the two are now sisters.

Karen, on the other hand, would have been content to have been adopted or not. She was quite innovative in her ways of expression; she had no qualms in whether she could communicate with anyone; she would always find a way.

Imogene, stricken by a sudden thought, rolled onto her side to face Karen, who looked her way soon after. She told Karen in the hand language that they should head to the baths to wash away the grime of their day, which her silent friend readily agreed.

Their movements energized by excitement to try out the bathrooms, Karen and Imogene quickly gathered their night clothes and hurried out of the room.

. . .

Once refreshed and cleaned, Rosie grabbed her toiletries and headed out of the large, spacious bathroom. However, once she stepped outside, her leg caught onto something firm and she tripped. She hit the carpeted floor hard, her belongings scattering from the fall.

A barrage of laughter soon followed, the overweight brunette recognizing them immediately. Keeping her eyes to the floor, Rosie slowly gathered her things and stood. She felt her chest tighten in anguish as the three girls carried on with their tirade of verbal abuse and teasing.

"With a fall like that, it's a wonder the whole _mansion _didn't shake!" Maria cried out with a cruel grin, her two friends finding her statement funny.

"They probably felt that in China, though!"

"Rosie? Rosie, what's…?" Evelyn trailed off as she stepped out of the adjacent bathroom, spotting the source of the disturbance. This sight was painfully familiar to her, and it brought an angered look to her face. "You three shouldn't cause trouble. We're a family now!"

"I'll _never _be related to _any _of you freaks," Paula said coldly, her cruel grin shifting to a sneer almost instantaneously. Seeing that her reply served to anger the oldest teenager further, her snide grin returned and she crossed her arms. "None of you besides Maria and Lisa, that is."

"That's ridiculous. We're sisters now, whether you like it or not, and you should treat us as such." As Evelyn spoke her mind on the ordeal, Imogene and Karen immerged from their own bathrooms, witnessing the confrontation.

"What's goin' on here?" Imogene inquired with narrowed eyes, resting a hand on her hip as she waited for an explanation. Evelyn faced her, her angered look gone, and told her what had happened. Karen watched everything unfold in silence, her expression blank and unreadable.

"What are you gonna do? Tie us up in a lasso or something?" Maria taunted, leaning forward a bit towards Imogene with a mocking grin. Paula and Lisa cackled behind her, encouraging the unnecessary behavior. This insult on her character did not lower the Southern-speaking American's resolve, her firm glare remaining in her features.

"No, but I jus' might inform Mr. Niccals of this. What nerve you have, trippin' Rosie like that." As Imogene vehemently spoke her mind, Karen had approached the downtrodden Rosie. She gently grasped her arm, giving her a warm smile when the fifteen-year-old looked her way. Karen tilted her head towards their rooms farther down the hallway, letting Rosie know her intentions. With a small smile and a nod, she happily followed.

"Oh, don't be such a sissy. We were only having a bit of sport, is all," Paula informed, inspecting her nails casually as she spoke. As Imogene went to tell her off, the distinct sound of footsteps was heard coming from downstairs, drawing the girls' focus to it. Once the one causing them came into view, they saw that it was Murdoc.

He had no definitive expression on his face, his dark eyes locked onto them in an unsettling leer. His hands were hidden behind his back, as always, his pace steady and poised. His presence brought a wave of uncertainty over the girls, their eyes wide as they watched him approach.

"Wot seems to be the problem here?" Murdoc finally asks, looking over the uneasy teens like a vulture eyeing a weary traveler in the desert. Unable to look the dark-haired man straight on, most of the girls cast their gazes away to other parts of the hallway. Seeing that he was not going to get an answer, Murdoc continued. "It's getting late. You ladies need to get in bed now."

"Sorry, Mr. Niccals…" The group mumbled in unison before scampering away from their temporary caretaker, each of them heading to their separate rooms. Murdoc watched them until they were out of sight, slowly shaking his head with a small grin before heading back downstairs. The lamps that ran along the wall and descended evenly with the stairs were then switched off, placing the area in darkness as their day finally came to an end.


	6. Chapter 6

Moving on along. It'll only get better from here. Here's chapter six, thanks to all who's read it this far!

Gorillaz belong to Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett

**Chapter Six**

Three days had passed since the girls first arrived at the Tusspot mansion, their time spent passing without much incident. There was still no word of their adopted father David, apparently still away on some sort of business. This left the duties of caring for the girls in Murdoc's hands, not that they really minded. He was the one that picked them out, and therefore they connected with him quite quickly.

With the sun rising on their fourth day in the manor, spirits were sailing high as the early birds flocked downstairs into the main foyer for breakfast. The table stretched several feet in length, easily accommodating the nine orphans and the other residents of the mansion. Currently, Rosie, Imogene, Karen, Maria, and Lisa sit in various chairs around the table, the blonde and Asian teens seated as far away from the others as possible.

"Paula! Any sign of the cook?" Lisa called out, her and Maria's gazes on the dark-haired teenager standing in a nearby doorway. The one addressed stopped what she was doing to look over at them, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

"No, I can't find Tattoo anywhere!"

"He'll be here soon. Tat us'ally brings us breakfast 'round this time." Imogene remarked with a bored look, twirling her fork on her empty plate. Karen faced her with a questioning expression, silently prodding her to repeat what she said to her. The brunette happily translated the conversation, to enlighten her friend on what was going on.

"Even still. We usually see him wandering around. I wonder if he even cooked anything…" Maria replied, propping her head in her hands with a frustrated sigh. Lisa mimicked her oriental comrade, complete with a pout and a low groan. Paula, making her way over to the table, angrily voiced her displeasure.

"If he doesn't get here soon, I'm gonna scream!"

. . .

Evelyn had taken this time of the early morning to gaze out to the sunrise just outside her window, able to do so because of the thick and fluffy darkening clouds blocking most of the intense light. Despite the dreary scenery, the dark-haired teen could not help but swell with happiness at the sight. She had done this routine since she had arrived at the mansion, waking up just in time to see the sunrise. Something about it brought comfort to her, though she did not exactly know why.

A soft rustle of blankets snapped Evelyn out of her thoughts, her green eyes casually shifting over to the bed on her right. She spotted a head full of red just barely visible over the thick covers, the tresses tussled and sticking up in every which direction. Smiling faintly, Evelyn stood from her bed and made her way over to the other.

"Gwen, it's time to get up now." She gently shook Gwen's shoulder, or at least where she thought it was. She was answered by a few grumbles and groans at first, but eventually the sleepy redhead rose from her bed like a zombie from the grave. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stretched, working out the kinks she accumulated overnight.

As she waited for Gwen to awaken fully, Evelyn happened to glance over at the open doorway to their room, spotting Elsie passing slowly by it. She appeared to be just as frightened as she was since the day she had arrived with them at the mansion, hardly ever speaking to anyone. Regardless, the pale-skinned teen still attempted to be as friendly as she could with her.

"Good morning, Elsie. How are you today?"

The one that Evelyn had called out to suddenly ceased walking once hearing her voice, slowly looking into the room to face her. From the perplexed expression in her features, you would have thought the oldest teenager had asked if she had two heads or something similar. Slightly baffled at Elsie's behavior, Evelyn and Gwen stared back at her with comparable looks.

"As long as I'm in this house, I'll never be okay," the religious teen said in a very faint voice, looking forward again and moving on. The redhead and dark-haired teens, still retaining their questioning expressions, eventually recovered and began dressing for the upcoming day.

"I'd have thought she would've gotten used to the place by now…" Evelyn remarked, her outlook sad as she slipped on a shoe. She heard Gwen scoff nearby, looking just in time to see her pull her shirt on.

"You know Elsie, that's just how she is."

Evelyn gave a short sigh in response, unable to deny Gwen's statement. In spite of knowing Elsie's enigmatic personality, she only wanted the dark-skinned girl to be a part of their new family. She did not like seeing her sitting alone, as if distancing herself from everyone. The sight reminded her of a small child she knew from years back, a head full of red, separated from the other young kids.

"I know, I just want her to have a friend. Maybe it would help her relax." The oldest teen smiled over at Gwen, who in turn gave her an unsure expression. When she could not take it anymore, the redhead voiced her unease.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Oh, no reason," Evelyn replied with a short giggle, adjusting her maroon colored ruffled skirt and inspecting herself in the mirror. Gwen raised a brow at her friend's odd behavior, but then shook her head and grabbed her sneakers. "Hurry up, now. Breakfast should be ready soon."

"Yeah, hang on! I just… gotta… tie this…!" Gwen, in a rush, had begun hopping toward the door as she tried tying her shoelaces on her final sneaker; she fell to the floor after losing her balance. Evelyn heard the loud thud, and came back to see what had happened. "I'm okay!"

. . .

Now sporting some fresh new Band-Aids on her left knee, Gwen and Evelyn made their way to the table with the other girls for their breakfast. From the empty table and plates, they could see that Tattoo was a bit late in serving them today.

"Gwen! Evelyn!" Rosie called out with a smile, beckoning them over to the seats beside her. She was happily joined by the two.

"Good morning, Rosie. Nice day, isn't it?" Evelyn greeted as she sat down; her redheaded companion took the seat to her right. Her lighthearted question spurred Rosie to look out of the nearest window, seeing the darkening sky blocking out most of the sunlight. She gave a short chuckle before speaking again.

"You most certainly can't be referring to the weather."

"Anyone can find sunshine on a cloudy day," replied the oldest adopted teen, she too smiling brightly as she spoke. Catching on to her joyous demeanor, Rosie nodded before looking over to the other girls.

"If only some people thought like you, Evelyn." Across the way, at the very end of the table, Paula and her group of friends were growing visibly restless as their hunger increased. If the food was not brought in soon, they felt, the three would explode like a volcano in Hawaii. Gwen could only hope that they would.

"Oh, for the love of… It's ten o' clock already! WHERE is Tattoo?" called out the angered and frightfully hungry Paula, who had crossed her arms and sulked in her seat. Fed up with her complaining, Imogene slammed her fist on the table and looked over at the dark-haired girl with a face twisted in anger.

"You'll git'cher goddamn food in a minute! Stop bellyachin' and be patient!"

The enraged shout from her adopted sister caught the bucktoothed teen's attention immediately, glaring over at her with shimmering dark eyes. As she went to yell back at the former farm girl, the door to the kitchen nearby suddenly swung open. A rather short man, hardly much taller than Gwen, dressed in a white chef's outfit came through the door soon after, pushing a small cart with the girls' break-fast piled expertly on its surface. His appearance instantly cooled down flaming tempers, their long wait finally justified.

"Very, very sorry, girls. Busy, I was. Very busy." Tattoo explained breathlessly as he rolled the cart over to the table, setting down entrees in the narrow space in the middle. Several of the teens reassured the foreign man that there was no need to apologize, though some of the girls thought otherwise.

Murdoc came strolling in through the same doorway not too long after Tattoo had, heading toward the table with an unreadable expression on his oddly tanned face. Gwen was the first to notice him, after happening to glance over her shoulder. Her bluish gray eyes narrowed a bit in response, but she looked back ahead to the food on her plate.

The redhead had never been very fond of adults in general, her only experience with them being the ever judgmental caretakers of the orphanage. Gwen realized that it was unfair to judge Murdoc as such only because of her experience, but in her eyes, he would have to earn her respect like any other adult she had and will come across.

"Good morning, girls," greeted the teens' temporary caretaker, placing a smile in his features. The small group of girls, now busy eating, responded back to him in various sounds and ways, just like the mornings previous. Not bothered by the less-than-enthusiastic welcome, Murdoc took his usual seat at the head of the table and began eating the meal prepared for him.

Once breakfast was finally done, the day can begin at last.

. . .

The sight of it brought her to a halt immediately, stopping at the doorway and staring into the room with eyes shimmering with interest.

It was a music room she had stumbled upon, seemingly closed off from the rest of the house. There were quite a few different instruments scattered throughout the room: trumpets, guitars, drums, violins, to name a few. But what caught Evelyn's watchful eye was the grand piano stashed to the far right of the relatively small chamber, its smooth ivory keys silently calling out to her to approach.

Evelyn stepped into the room, her eyes locked onto the piano; it was as if she was not in control of her body anymore. She had always wanted to play on such an elegant instrument, but never had the chance. The oldest teenager was closer now, her hand outstretched to try out the old musical contraption.

"You like the piano, I see." The voice came so sudden that she jumped in a start, turning to the doorway to see none other than Murdoc standing there. He had a faint grin on his face, catching the look of surprise in Evelyn's facial expression. As he walked into the room, the now embarrassed teen girl gave a small sheepish smile in return.

"I'm sorry. Is this room off limits, too?"

"No, no, not at all." Murdoc strode past Evelyn, moving dusty boxes and other discarded items out of his way before taking a seat on the long cushioned bench to the right. He turned to look over at the dark-haired girl before beckoning her over to him. "I know how to play this fine instrument. If you like, I can teach you."

"You'd… do that for me?" Evelyn was overcome by emotion at Murdoc's offer, shyly shuffling her way over to where he sat. She took the seat next to him, her smile never leaving. With his own small grin, the well-dressed man answered her in calm, soft tone of voice.

"Of course. It's no problem."

Throughout the hour, maybe two, Murdoc taught Evelyn the basics of playing the piano, ever patient with her when she would make a mistake. From their place in the music room, the two did not notice Gwen peering in from the doorway. The redhead had the tiniest of smiles on her face, happy that Evelyn was getting a lesson at the piano that she has always wanted.

"Good, good, Evelyn. That's right," Murdoc said lowly, his gruff voice heard over the music from the keyed contraption. His student for the day smiled back at him, and continued to play the tune he had taught her. To further reward the teen, he gently rubbed her back in a stroking motion.

Seeing this, Gwen's smile slowly faded to a look of apprehension. The gesture alone appeared harmless, but something about it seemed a little off to her. It was a gut feeling at best, and she would have to let it drop for now. She left without saying anything, not wanting to create a scene.

"Well, that should be enough for today." Murdoc stood from the seat and stretched backwards, trying to pop the vertebrae in his back. The according sound was loud, which was followed by a relieved sigh from the thirty-year-old. "We'll pick up where we left off tomorrow, perhaps?"

"Oh, yes. I would love that very much!" Evelyn cried, she too standing from her spot on the bench. She followed Murdoc out of the music room and into the main foyer; looking outside, she could see that several of her adopted sisters were playing in the yard. With a smile, the teenager looked back at her caretaker. "Thank you for offering to teach me. It really means a lot."

"Anytime, my dear."

With nothing more to say, Evelyn made her way up to her room to retrieve something. Her steps were fueled with bliss, her mood higher than the clouds in the sky. If she had not known any better, the pale skinned teenager would have thought she would simply float away in happiness after being shown such generosity.

As she made her way upstairs toward her room, however, an undying sense of dread suddenly fell over Evelyn like a thick blanket. She slowed her pace, her steps now uncertain and cautious, a fearful look seen in her features. The air grew steadily thicker, almost stifling, as she approached her room.

It was empty, not a soul inside. In spite of what her eyes clearly saw, the dark-haired girl felt as if she was being watched. Swallowing the lump forming in her throat, Evelyn forced her shaky voice to work.

"H-hello? Is anyone in here…?" She was not answered, as she had expected. But that nagging feeling just would not go away. Trying to push the matter aside, Evelyn stepped into her room, heading toward the drawer next to her bed.

Then, she heard it. The sound was very low, like a whisper, and it spoke too fast for her to understand what was being said. Still looking ahead to the window in front of her, Evelyn noticed that her room had somehow gotten darker than before. Frightened but also the slightest bit curious, the teenager slowly looked over her shoulder to get a peek at what was causing the sounds.

In the farthest corner to her left, almost completely concealed by the choking darkness that had accumulated in the room, was a tall, dark figure. From what she could make of his face, Evelyn saw what looked like a gas mask, but that was the extent of the features she could make out.

Before she could hesitantly speak up to the peculiar entity, a barrage of many anomalies suddenly began occurring. Windows shook, the television switched on and off on its own, the walls appeared to twist and writhe as the black mass of a phantom stepped toward her. His movement was erratic, like an old video tape skipping frames. Evelyn, frozen in terror, only watched everything unfold with eyes as wide as saucers, her mind reeling.

"Evelyn? EVELYN!" Upon hearing the voice, the figure was gone in an instant, and all of the frightening activity in the room ceased. Blinking her wide green eyes rapidly, Evelyn saw Rosie standing where she had just seen the phantom moments earlier, a concerned look on her plump face. "Evelyn, are you okay? You look a little shaken up…"

"Y-yes, I'm fine. Just a dizzy spell," lied the oldest of the two, forcing a faint grin to her face as she grabbed a book from her drawer. After some mild convincing, Rosie let the matter go and joined her friend as they headed back downstairs to go outside with the others. If anything, it would help her get her mind off of what had just happened.


	7. Chapter 7

Here's another chapter for those who still care. XD

Gorillaz belong to Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett

**Chapter Seven**

"Hit it! Hit it!" Imogene cried after seeing the tennis ball, a wide grin on her face as she watched the other player scramble to swing it back. Maria, Imogene's opponent, barely managed to hit the ball over the net. When she did, though, the brunette quickly hit it back. The two continued to swat the neon green ball back and forth, much to the delight and entertainment of the other girls watching.

Gwen sat on a concrete bench on Imogene's side, pouting, her clenched hands on her cheeks, clearly upset about something. Karen, sitting next to the redhead, looked over at her with a smile, but it quickly faded once she caught sight if her angered expression. Concerned but unable to effectively communicate with her, the curly-haired teen looked back at the game again.

It was not too long after when Evelyn and Rose came outside, catching the attention of the other girls. The two took a seat next to Gwen, who eyed Evelyn with an unreadable look. This went unnoticed by the oldest adopted teen, opening the book she had brought and began reading.

"Where were you, Eve?" Gwen questioned, never taking her eyes off of her. The soft-spoken teen did not react to the youngest girl's inquiry, only casually looking over at her with a warm grin.

"I was learning how to play piano, but I'm done for now. Why do you ask?"

"Just wonderin'…" Gwen mumbled, still pouting as she placed her eyes back to the tennis game. Rosie, surprised to hear this new information, happily carried on where her redheaded friend left off.

"Piano? Who was teaching you?" Evelyn answered her friend's query quite swiftly, her tone showing her glee. Catching this, Gwen huffed in clear frustration, turning away from her two comrades.

"Too bad he's so creepy." She chimed in, spoiling the lighthearted mood almost instantly. Disappointed in the redhead's behavior, Evelyn finally faced her with a stern look on her pale face. She figured that Gwen was in one of her foul moods, as she tended to get most times.

"Gwen, you know better than to say such things," Evelyn warned, her firm voice revealing how cross she was, sharp green eyes staring daggers into Gwen's back. The redhead could almost feel the angry stare, but still managed to keep looking away from her. Not completely satisfied with the younger girl's response but willing to let the matter drop, Evelyn placed her gaze back to the book in her lap. "What would cause you to make such claims, anyway?"

Gwen, stubborn as always, did not answer, and the two left it at that. Rosie, confused with what was going on, decided to try and lighten the mood.

"Hey Gwen, you wanna go walking around? Might make you feel a little better…" Her suggestion did not appear to interest the sulking redhead at first, but as she thought about it further, she slowly looked over at her more robust friend with wanting eyes. Seeing this, Rosie smiled and stood from the bench. "You go on ahead, Gwen. I'll catch up to you."

The frustrated thirteen-year-old held an uncertain expression at the brunette's statement, but hesitantly stood and walked away from them. Once she was out of earshot, Rosie looked down at Evelyn, who still had her eyes on the open page of her book.

"You seem to have a lot on your mind. Gwen doesn't understand, so I'll take her off your hands for a moment."

"Thank you, Rosie. I really appreciate it," Evelyn said softly, placing her eyes onto her with a smile. The slightly younger friend smiled back as she adjusted her glasses, waving goodbye to Karen before making her way over to where Gwen was waiting. She came to a sudden stop, however, thinking she had seen something on the corner of her eye.

Her hazel eyes sailed up to a window on the second floor of the mansion, only seeing a pale violet curtain flapping in the breeze. Rosie narrowed her eyes a bit; she was certain she had seen someone standing there. Eventually, though, she shrugged it off and continued on to her younger friend.

"So Gwen, are you ready?"

"Yeah, are you?" Gwen asked back, still slightly upset about something that Rosie could not figure out. She frowned, wanting to know what was troubling the rambunctious redhead. As the two began walking along, she managed to build up the courage to ask.

"You seem a little annoyed about something, Gwen. Is there anything you want to talk about?" For a moment, Rosie's question went unanswered. It was not that Gwen was ignoring her; it was just that she was trying to come up with the right words to say.

"I don't think I like Murdoc very much."

An astonished look appeared on Rosie's face, but she could not say that she was very surprised. She had always known that Gwen was not fond of many adults, but it was the fact that she did not like the kind man that picked them for adoption was what shocked her. Murdoc had done nothing but care for them since the day they arrived at the mansion, and Rosie now considered him more of a father figure than David is.

"But he's so nice. Why wouldn't you like him?" Silence. Gwen appeared to look in every direction but at Rosie herself, as if trying to cover the real reason for her displeasure. When her brown-haired friend prodded, however, the redhead at last relented.

"Just… how he acts. I don't like it." The older of the two went to comment further, to get more out of her, but was stopped when a sudden clash of thunder tore through the tranquil area they were in. This sound brought all the girls to a halt, their activities delayed at the sign of the upcoming storm.

As the first raindrop fell from the darkening heavens, the teens hurried into the gigantic manor to avoid getting drenched. Most watched as water poured down by the buckets, soaking everything it touches. Thunder and lightning danced in a tango of flashes and rumbles, the occurrence unnerving a few of the teenagers.

"Boy, that came on quick," Imogene remarked, crossing her arms with a perplexed look as she watched the storm from her seat by a window. Karen sat next to her, gazing outside with an expression of amazement and wonder.

"It was fairly cloudy this morning," reminded Rosie from across the way, she too staring outside with an expressionless look in her features. Evelyn, sitting next to her on her right, nodded in agreement. Gwen, who had decided to place herself on the floor in the center of the two couches, laid back with a frustrated sigh.

"I HATE the rain! It's always so boring indoors."

"Typical reaction from such a little kid." The redhead shot up immediately once hearing the voice, turning and glaring over at none other than Paula and her two sidekicks. Their presence sparked an intense standoff, the night before still fresh in the girls' minds. Clearly antagonizing the situation further, Paula continued with a snide grin. "Why don't you go play with your little dolly upstairs?"

"Go die in a hole, beaver-face!" Gwen fired back, now standing fully as she confronted the trio of bullies. The insult earned her a short, sharp glare from the leader of the three, but it quickly vanished as she kept her cool.

"Careful now. We wouldn't want you to have another accident, right? Just like back at the orphanage?"

"Move along, Paula, you an' yer little friends. If yer gonna make a total mule of yerself you might as well jus' leave," Imogene warned with a surprisingly level tone of voice, her dark blue eyes slit as she stared them down. For a moment, no one said a word, the air thick with the tension. Eventually, the dark-haired sixteen-year-old huffed and began walking away.

"Whatever. You lot are boring anyway."

A roar of thunder tore through the relative silence of the foyer, startling those who currently reside in it. The storm had picked up during the girls' squabble, the high winds shifting the direction of the rain and blowing over anything that was light enough and not strapped down. It was all that was needed to stop the teens from carrying on with their argument.

It was not too long after when they saw Murdoc making his way down the stairs into the main hall, his gaze fixed on the girls as he entered. There was a peculiar look in his rugged appearance, his eyes steely and somewhat glazed over. This did not go unnoticed by the adopted teenagers, who cautiously asked him what as wrong. With a short sigh that broke the focused stare, Murdoc answered them.

"I just got a phone call moments ago, and received disheartening news."

"What happened? Is someone hurt?" Evelyn inquired softly, her question spurring the others into silently pleading for him to reply. A short, heartfelt laugh escaped him at their antics, the sound falling flat before it could reverberate through the large room.

"No, no. It was from David. He was supposed to be coming home today, but cannot in this terrible weather." Murdoc's answer may have quelled any worries of someone's wellbeing, but brought on numerous other queries and remarks of displeasure from the girls. He silenced them by bringing his hands up, palms facing them. "He should arrive in… five more days. He apologizes. He really wants to meet you all."

"Why so long? Surely the storm ain't gonna last for five days…" Imogene stated lowly, her arms crossed and a brow raised in perplexity. Murdoc lowered his arms as he looked her way.

"Apparently it will. That's wot the weatherman said." The dark-haired man tucked his arms behind his back, his eyes sailing over each individual girl. His tone was low, his expression serious. "Therefore, I will continue to look after you all for a few more days than planned."

"That's fine with us. You're a great caretaker," Rosie piped up shyly, fidgeting a little as she spoke. Just as she had hoped, several of the other girls readily agreed with her. This appeared to brighten up the family friend's demeanor, his eyes gleaming with a spark of happiness. It was as if he had expected a vastly different response.

"Well thank you, ladies. I'm glad you feel that way."

He looked as if he wanted to say more, but was stopped when the lights suddenly cut off. The only illumination now was provided by the dull glow of daylight outside. An explosion of thunder ripped though the silence once again, the booming noise ejecting screams from the girls.

"Now, now, it's alright everyone," Murdoc said as a means of calming his charges, heading toward a drawer nearby. The teenagers watched him anxiously as the only adult present rummaged through the contents of the storing space, placing their nervous gazes to the storm outside. The only one that did not appear to show any fear was Karen, who could not hear the thunder. "Here we are."

When he returned, several small red candles were bundled in his arms. He handed one to each girl, lighting them up soon after. Once this was done, Murdoc instructed them to carefully head to their rooms. As they made their way toward the elegant flight of stairs, the voice of someone else echoed through the halls.

Looking toward the source of the noise, the girls caught sight of a medium sized man walking into the foyer. He was slightly heavy in build, dressed in casual attire consisting of jeans and a dull gray button-up shirt. His eyes were always wide and beady, looking as if he was constantly frightened of something. It was mostly because of this that the girls tried to avoid the electrician, even though he was quite nice to them.

"Ahh, there you are, Dave. Did you find out wot's going on with the power?" Murdoc asked, his tone friendly and relaxed, a stark contrast to the shorter man's demeanor. The electrician adjusted his hardhat with a shaky hand before answering.

"Oh, lightning's struck it, sir. I'll do wot I can to fix it."

"I see. Carry on." With that said, Murdoc looked back up at the girls watching from the stairs, dismissing Dave. As the nervous man sauntered off, the temporary caretaker spoke up once more. "It'll be a while before the power's back on. Stay in your rooms and be careful of where you step."

The group of teenagers nodded at his instructions, and hurriedly went to their rooms. With no power, the only sounds to keep them company were the raindrops tapping on the windows, and the occasional roaring thunder.


	8. Chapter 8

Nothing much to say, just another chapter. Gorillaz belong to Damon and Jamie.

**Chapter Eight**

The rain pitter-pattering on the roof and windows had become an accustomed sound as day slowly rolled into night, the inhabitants of the Tusspot mansion forced to create ways to entertain themselves without any electricity. The dull light from the candles were the only forms of illumination in the large house, the small flames flickering quietly. They were like glowing orange eyes watching all who shared a room with them, silently observing the girls as they find ways to liven up the mood.

"I can't believe the stupid power isn't back on yet," Gwen stated bitterly, lying on her bed and staring at the shadows cast by the fire shifting and darting along the ceiling. From the bed next to her, Evelyn looked over at the bored redhead, the candlelight just barely revealing the frown on her face.

"It doesn't look like it's getting fixed tonight," she began, placing her eyes back ahead of her. "We might as well just head to bed."

"I ain't the least bit tired, though. There's gotta be _somethin' _'round here we can do." Their visitor, Imogene, currently sat on the floor with Karen, who stared fixatedly at the glowing red candles on a dresser drawer. Suddenly, the former farm girl stood and turned to Evelyn, Rosie, and Gwen. "I'mma go lookin' for some games or somethin'. Anyone wanna come?"

"But Imogene, is it really a good idea to-"

"I'll go!" Gwen's outburst interrupted Rosie, but the redhead did not seem to notice or care as she hopped out of bed and made her way over to a now smiling Imogene. Karen watched the ordeal in questioning silence, still seated cross-legged on the carpeted floor.

"That settles it then. We'll be right back." After explaining the situation to her deaf friend, the hat-wearing teen and Gwen grabbed one candle for each of them and stepped out of the room.

The corridor was pitch black. Were it not for the candles the two girls had, there was no way either of them could see where they were going. They made their way to the stairs that would take them down to the first floor, the steps barely visible in the dark.

Just as Imogene started carefully heading down, Gwen stopped just at the top of the stairs. She had been overcome by the uncanny feeling that she and Imogene were being watched, and she listened for any sounds that would confirm her suspicions. With the overpowering darkness around them and the storm raging outside, it was impossible for Gwen to see or hear anything else.

"C'mon, Gwen. Let's check in here," Imogene called out in a whisper, yet loud enough for her younger companion to catch it. The redhead snapped her gaze to the pigtailed teen already at the foot of the stairs; she took one last look around before carefully stepping down to the first floor as well.

The two tiptoed over to a nearby door and opened it, tentatively checking inside. From what they could see, they had only found a vacant room and moved on.

Even with the tempest brewing all around the mansion, the interior was eerily quiet, every step they made echoing softly through the foyer. Every so often, Gwen would look quickly over at any sort of movement, though it would only turn out to be a shadow or peculiar formation of items. She was unsure of why she was so on edge; perhaps it was that feeling she had gotten earlier, she presumed.

"This one looks promisin'. Never checked this 'n before."

"What are we looking for, exactly?" Gwen suddenly asked, her eyes on Imogene with a blank appearance on her face. The former farm girl looked down at her current comrade with what appeared to be surprise, though it quickly shifted to a faint smile.

"Stuff that we can do. Don't tell me yer gettin' cold feet now." At the older teen's answer, Gwen began to look around again.

"I just feel a little uneasy…" Her voice was low, as if fearing that someone would jump out and scare them at any moment. With wavering eyes, Gwen turned her gaze back up to Imogene. "We should call it a night. It's late anyway…"

The brunette was baffled at Gwen's unusual behavior, having never seen her this nervous before, other than getting in trouble, at least. Knowing this, Imogene felt that she should heed her advice and get back to their rooms. But there was something that brought her attention back to the door they had found, the rich mahogany wood beckoning her to open it.

"Alright, Gwen. We'll check here and then go back, okay?" She did not wait for Gwen to answer, turning the knob and opening the door before peering inside. From what Imogene saw, the room was filled with various knickknacks and other random items piled on each other in a mess of clutter and dust. She wanted to back out and return to their friends with the uneasy Gwen, but like the door, Imogene felt compelled to step farther inside to have a better look.

"What's up? Did you find something?" The redhead asked from the doorway, momentarily startled by another loud clap of thunder. All she could see of Imogene was a dim outline provided by the candle she was holding, watching with curious eyes as she began rummaging around. When the older teen did not reply to her, Gwen spoke again. "Imogene?"

Her movements were almost automatic as she lifted numerous stacks of books and figures out of her way, searching with a purpose. Picking up her pace, Imogene moved away a bag of something soft and tossed it aside, then stopped.

A fairly large and withered book stared back up at her, untitled, bare and red. This simplicity caught her eye and she picked it up carefully, as if fearing it would fall apart in her hands. Blinking twice in uncertainty and curiosity, Imogene set her candle down and opened the book. "What on earth is _this_?"

"I dunno, but we'd better get out of here…" Gwen, now growing frustrated with Imogene's stalling, trailed off when she realized that someone was now behind her. Hesitantly looking straight up with widened eyes, she saw that it was a seemingly angered Murdoc. In her nervous state, he appeared to loom and tower over her. It was enough to make the redhead draw back farther into the room.

"Wot's got you two wandering around here in the dark?" The caretaker's inquiry startled Imogene, who had not seen him standing there. What little light there was only lit up a fraction of his features, casting the rest in dark shadow. Out of fear, the girls did not answer him, unable to get their voices to work. An unseen brow raised, Murdoc continued. "Looking for something to do, are you?"

"Y-yeah. But… we'll go to bed if you want us to…" Imogene shakily replied, raising her shoulders up to her jaw line as she looked away. Gwen, standing in front of her, nodded slowly as she too tensed up.

A low, almost cheerful chuckle echoed faintly in the dark room, the sound coming from Murdoc himself. Unsure of what to make of his reaction, Imogene and Gwen remained cautiously silent. As his laugh faded away, the dark-haired man gleefully stepped into the room, gently patting Gwen on the head as he passed her. He then stopped in front of Imogene, who gave him a confused expression at his sudden flippant behavior.

"If you want to play a game, all you had to do was ask."

"But you weren't-" Gwen began, cut off when Murdoc wrapped an arm over her shoulders and collarbone before bringing her close, effectively silencing her. He did the same with Imogene with his other arm and led them out of the room, the faint orange glow from the candle flame revealing his jovial grin.

"I'm always available, loves. All you must do is call," he informed, releasing the baffled girls before taking the book Imogene had found and opened it. Using what little available light there was, Murdoc flipped through a few pages with a look of concentration, a great contrast from his previous expression.

"What is that book, anyway?"

"It appears to be a compilation of different games you can play. Spooky games, mind." The Tusspot family friend did not look Imogene's way when he replied to her, his eyes locked onto the aged pages as he turned them. His small hint of a smile returned as he stopped on a particular page; Murdoc then faced them and held the book up to show them what he had been looking at. "Like this one. I used to play this all the time when I was your age."

Still a bit apprehensive about the ordeal, Imogene retrieved the old piece of literature and inspected the proposed game Murdoc was referring to. Gwen snuck a peek at it as well.

They could not read every part of it, due to the poor lighting, but what they could make of it was that it was a spirit conjuring activity. It was called the Ghost Glass Game.

"How does this work?" Gwen inquired with slightly narrowed eyes, those same orbs of gray sailing over to her temporary caretaker. Letting out a quick grunt and still keeping a grin on his angular face, Murdoc took the book back and shut it with the same hand. He then squinted one eye and held a challenging look, tucking the book under his arm.

"Want to find out?"

Not sure what to do, the two girls looked to each other for answers. They had never tried anything like the game that was offered to them, much of their views censored by the orphanage they lived in. But since Murdoc did not seem affected by asking them to participate, the teens did not see any reason to refuse. Turning their eyes back to their current guardian, they nodded in unison.

. . .

"So, like, what are we doing again?" Lisa questioned irritably from her seat against a large round table, currently dabbing powdered blush onto her cheeks. She, along with Maria, Paula, Karen, Imogene, Rosie, Gwen, and Murdoc filled the seats circling the table, the book Imogene found set in front of the dark-haired man.

"Talking to ghosts or something. S'not like it's real or anything," replied Maria sitting to her left, her thin arms crossed and a bored look on her face. Gwen, seated two spaces over, rolled her eyes and threw a smart aleck remark back at her.

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I'm _BORED_, smartass!" Maria's outburst sparked an insult war between the two, which was eventually ended by a warning from Murdoc. Silenced but still fuming, the two hotheads could only sit and sulk as they slowly simmered down. Rosie let out a low sigh, shaking her head slowly.

"I'm back with the glass," Evelyn announced as she entered the relatively empty room they chose to have their game in, only able to see Murdoc and the others from the few candles lit around them. She placed the small crystal cup upside down in the center of the table before taking her seat beside the still-pouting Gwen.

"Alright now, let's get started. If any of you want to back out of this, now is the time," Murdoc stated with a blank, almost solemn expression as he looked at each of the girls staring back at him. When no one spoke, he allowed the smile to return. "One thing I must stress is that you must not speak during this procedure. It could disrupt the process."

"Yeah, so keep your trap shut, Gwen," Paula teased with a throaty laugh. Not even the dim lighting could hope to hide the glare on the redhead's face.

"Follow your own advice, shit-for-brains…"

"Gwen!" Evelyn shouted, her firm tone making the youngest flinch and tense up. Instantly feeling bad for making her friend angry, Gwen fell silent and stared at the table in front of her. She heard Paula and her posse snicker and cackle at the display, but ignored it. It just was not worth it.

Watching from across the table, Murdoc took in the spectacle before him in silence. It was the first time he had seen the obnoxious redhead willingly obey a command from _anyone_, showing him how strong the bond between her and Evelyn truly is. The thought brought a faint smile back to his lips.

"Are we all done going for each other's throats? Now, each of you must place a finger gently on the top of this glass here. Do not, under any circumstances, move the glass yourself." Murdoc demonstrated his directions, lightly touching the cup with his fingertip. "If the glass starts moving, don't be alarmed. Spirits are not of this world, and cannot hurt you."

Somewhat cautiously, the girls followed suit with their caretaker's actions, their fingers creating a ring of flesh on the smooth surface of the glass. The air was tense with anxiousness and curiosity, none of them knowing what to expect from playing this game.

With everyone in position, Murdoc began repeating a sort of chant over and over, asking a spirit to reveal itself to them, and to move the glass on the table. For a while, there was no response, the crystal cup remaining stationary in the center. But then, a lurch, then a tug, and the glass slowly began to slide across the table.

The girls held shocked looks on their faces, each gazing at the other to see if they were moving the cup, only to stare back into equally astonished eyes. With only the raging tempest outside and the sliding glass providing any sounds, the teens focused their attention solely on what was happening before them.

Evelyn, she too amazed at the spectacle, decided to place her eyes over to Murdoc to see his reaction. When she did, however, she immediately regretted ever doing so.

Standing silently behind their temporary caretaker was the same inky black entity she had seen earlier that day, only able to make out its masked face and glowing red eyes. In a fit of panic, Evelyn went to tell Murdoc about it; he seemed to be unaware of the phantom entirely. But her throat suddenly constricted and stopped any chance of her speaking, now staring ahead with green eyes wide as saucers.

Apparently conscious of being spotted, the frightening spirit slowly locked eyes with her and stared back. The rest of the world appeared to melt away, time coming to a halt as this standoff waged on. As a fuzzy darkness began to creep into her vision, Evelyn heard someone whisper to her, her frazzled mind barely grasping the message.

The darkness eventually swallowed her consciousness, now feeling herself lying on the cold floor. She heard the voices of her friends calling out to her, the sound muffled and far away. The brilliant glow of electric light shined in her eyes before she closed them.

. . .

"She'll be fine. She just needs to rest," Murdoc stated in a low whisper, having just tucked the unconscious Evelyn in her bed and backed away. Gwen and Rosie were also in the room, being the ones the well-dressed man was talking to. The redhead looked on with a mix of concern and confusion, not quite knowing what had happened to her friend. The chubby brunette held a fearful and uneasy look in her eyes, still reeling from the entire ordeal.

"What happened to her? As soon as she passed out, everything started shaking!" Gwen cried out, running up to the right side of Evelyn's bed. When her sharp eyes fell to Murdoc, he was still looking at Evelyn, a regretful expression in his features.

"It appears we've contacted the wrong spirit, is all." The dark-haired man turned his eyes to the upset redhead, the frown on his face all too apparent. "I did not intend this. Please realize."

"Well… as long as she'll be alright."

"Mr. Niccals?" Rosie's squeak of a voice caught the attention of the others in the room, their gazes falling on her fidgeting form. It took her a few seconds to find her voice again, her lips quivering as she spoke. "Could… could you please stay in here until we fall asleep? I… I'm…"

The fifteen-year-old trailed off as she placed her eyes to the floor, now regretting ever speaking up. She then felt a hand gently clasp her shoulder, and immediately looked up to Murdoc's smiling face.

"Of course, love. Your fear is understandable," he stated calmly before guiding Rosie toward her bed; the girls had changed into their pajamas beforehand, and were already prepared to turn in for the night. As the relieved brunette crawled into her bed, Murdoc pulled up a nearby chair close to the door and sat in it. "I'll keep watch until you both fall asleep."

"Thank you, Mr. Niccals," Rosie said lightly as she pulled the covers to her shoulders and settled in, a content expression on her face. Gwen, still standing next to Evelyn's bed, looked on with uncertainty, not knowing what to make of the situation.

"Get some sleep, Gwen. Your friend will be fine." The redhead watched Murdoc's face for a moment, taking in his expression. His jaw was clenched tight, his cheeks sunk in more than usual. The caretaker's eyes stared right at her, unwavering, revealing the seriousness in his words. Her resolve buckling under his intense stare, Gwen reluctantly moved to her bed and covered up as well.

The lamps were switched off soon after, enveloping the room in darkness once again. Uneasy about being watched, the redhead drifted off to sleep long after Rosie had. Once he was sure that the girls were slumbering, Murdoc quietly stood from the chair and exited the room.

. . .

Nightmares were inevitable for her, given how scared she was before she had gone to sleep. Waking up with a start, Rosie sat up quickly as she regained her bearings. Putting on her glasses, she saw that Murdoc was no longer watching them, and that Evelyn and Gwen were still fast asleep.

Sighing quietly, Rosie slowly slid out of her bed and left the room. She had accidentally bumped into the door as she left, inadvertently waking Gwen, though only just slightly. She lay there for what felt like hours, waiting for the welcomed veil of sleep to fall over her again.

Just as she finally dozed off, Gwen could have sworn she heard a strange, but oddly familiar metallic sound coming from the hallway.


	9. Chapter 9

Gorillaz belong to Damon and Jamie, all other characters belong to myself and my good friend. Enjoy!

**Chapter Nine**

Gwen was awakened abruptly by a periodic break in the storm, sunlight pouring into the room and brightening everything up inside. She opened her eyes only partially, the glare of the light irritating them. Upon doing so, the drowsy redhead noticed that she was alone in the room.

The events of the previous night instantly came flooding back, the memories now fresh in her mind. Fully awake, Gwen threw the covers off of her and quickly dressed for the day. She wanted to find Evelyn, to see if she was alright. After what had happened last night, it seemed almost impossible for her friend to be up and around.

Stumbling on her untied shoelaces on the way out, Gwen rushed to the end of the hallway and down the stairs into the main foyer. It was there that she saw Evelyn and the other girls gathered in front of Murdoc, who appeared to be explaining something. There was a unified mix of worry and shock on their faces as they listened to their current caretaker, looks that had Gwen baffled and curious as she approached, standing next to Evelyn.

"Eve, what's going on?" she asked her, her eyes traveling up to her dark-haired friend. Evelyn, her face skewed with concern, looked to the youngest teen with a frown.

"It's Rosie. She's gone missing."

There was an instant sense of dread that settled in the pit of her stomach, the color draining from her face. At first, she had said that she was probably just lost in the vast mansion, but Evelyn informed her that there had already been a search. The results were painfully self-explanatory.

"The wayward sheep has lost its way. God willing, she will be safe and sound," stated Elsie from beside them, her blank stare never leaving Murdoc as he said that the police have been called and a search party was en route to start looking for the missing teen. Gwen slowly looked down to her feet, her expression unreadable as she let this slew of information sink in.

_Where could she have gone? Why would she leave in the first place? _The redhead asked herself, trying to think back, to remember the last time she had seen her glasses-wearing friend. She remembered that she and Rosie had gone to bed at the same time, and had drifted off not too long after. _It just doesn't make sense._

"I will do everything in my power to find our missing friend. Hopefully we'll find her safe and sound," Murdoc said with an expression of concern, he too visibly troubled by the ordeal. This statement was the apparent dismissal to the announcement, the remaining teenagers dispersing and chattering amongst themselves. Only Evelyn and Gwen remained, the news of their friend's vanishing hitting them the hardest.

"I don't get it, Eve. How can she just disappear like that?" There was a sense of loss in the redhead's tone, knowing how bleak the situation was. She looked up at her older comrade, seeing her still staring blankly ahead as she tried to come to terms with it all. It was all so sudden, being haunted by a frightening phantom that may or may not be there, and now one of her friends were missing. What could be wrong here? She wished she knew.

"I don't know. All we can do is hope that she's found."

The distraught seventeen-year-old walked away before Gwen could say anything more, leaving the redhead alone as the reality of the whole ordeal slowly sunk in. There was nothing more that could have been said; all that is left is hoping and praying.

Evelyn thought back to her time in the orphanage, when she first met Rosie Garland. The brunette had already been a teenager when her parents' unfortunate passing had happened, so she and Gwen had only known her for a few short years. In spite of such, the three had become inseparable, doing almost everything together. With all of them having been adopted into the same household appeared to be a blessing in itself. In the blink of an eye, that harmony was destroyed.

"Evelyn?" Hearing a familiar voice call out her name from behind her, the dark-haired teen stopped and turned to face the one who spoke. She knew even before her eyes fell on him that it was Murdoc. "I'm sorry this has happened. You must be devastated."

"I am. I can't bare to think what's happened. How she ended up missing." Evelyn faced ahead once again, her saddened eyes to her feet. She then felt a gentle hand grasp her left shoulder, another on her upper right arm. The warmth of the caretaker seeped through her shirt and into her thin framed body, bringing a sense of comfort to her, a comfort that let her know that she was not alone.

"You mustn't dwell on those thoughts, Evelyn. You have to be strong for the others," Murdoc said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. The sound tickled Evelyn's ear, but she did well enough to conceal a reaction. "Especially Gwen."

"You're right…"

"Perhaps another practice session of piano will help ease your mind," offered the dark-haired family friend, recoiling slowly away from Evelyn. In turn, she looked at him with the faintest of smiles on her pale face.

"I'd like that very much."

. . .

Whenever she needed time alone to think, Gwen would step outside to clear her head. The sun was mostly concealed by thick, dark clouds that seemed to constantly hang over the mansion, a sure sign that the storm had not dissipated or moved on. A cool September breeze blew over the young redhead, gently ruffling her hair and clothes. This went mostly unnoticed by Gwen, her brows lowered as she thought over all that she had learned only moments ago.

Her concentration was only disrupted when she spotted who she recognized as the gardener, his rounded back facing her as he plucked weeds from the flowerbed he was in. Her curiosity growing, Gwen stood from the steps in which she had been sitting on and hesitantly walked over to the silent man.

She stood there for several seconds or so, watching him methodically pull out the numerous unwanted vegetation from the damp soil. Eventually her presence grew cumbersome with his concentration, and the gardener finally addressed her.

"You need something?" His sudden voice startled the preteen, a short gasp coming from her as she took a step back. The dark-skinned gardener looked at her with an impatient stare, large almond eyes fixed and unmoving. The sight unnerved Gwen a little, but she eventually pushed the feeling away and answered him.

"N-no, I was just watching you um… pick weeds."

"That's nice. Why are you buggin' me? Don't you have someplace to be?" He returned to his work after he spoke, his gaze softening somewhat. His remark spurred Gwen into giving him an annoyed look of her own, not taking kindly to being brushed off.

"No! I'm upset about my friend being missing, you insensitive jerk!" The redhead shouted, her words making the gardener stop. However, Gwen carried on as the emotions she bottled up came pouring out. "I'm scared for her! She's my friend and she's gone!"

For a moment, the bald man fell still, staring at the now cleared flowerbed he was kneeling in. The only sounds were the light sniffling coming from the child standing next to him. Then, just as Gwen went to head back to the mansion, he spoke in a low, hushed tone, still looking down.

"Yeah… I heard about that this morning."

Gwen ceased walking at hearing the mumbled reply from the gardener, glancing over her shoulder and back at him. It was then when he too stood and looked her way, an apologetic expression in his plump features. The large man approached the now apprehensive Gwen, then kneeled down to her level so they could talk face to face. "I'm sorry. I'm just a little on edge, being here."

Gwen held an angered expression when the gardener stopped before her, but once hearing his explanation for his behavior, it quickly shifted to surprise. Other than Elsie, the redhead had felt that she was the only one that did not quite feel at home in the gigantic mansion. Hearing this from an adult shocked her, but also gave her some relief.

She was not alone.

"You too…?" Now it was the dark-skinned man's turn to be surprised. Apparently he had felt the same as Gwen, being under the impression that he was the only one who was uneasy about being there. Knowing now that someone else shared his feelings, a relieved smile was seen in his features.

"Man, I never thought I'd be happy to have one of you young 'uns buggin' me," he said with a short laugh, holding out a large hand to the equally smiling Gwen. "Russel Hobbs. Pleased to meet you."

"Gwen Summers. Likewise."

, , ,

Elsie had gone upstairs toward her room after hearing of Rosie's unfortunate disappearance, intending to pray for her safe return in the privacy of her living quarters. She passed by the closed door of David's deceased wife's room without thinking twice about it, having heeded Murdoc's orders to not tread inside. She was only a few feet away from her door when a sudden icy cold feeling swept over her, bringing her to a complete stop.

Ever since she was young, she had always had a sort of sixth sense with what most people refer to as the spiritual. All through her life, Elsie had the ability to feel that there were things present that most could not see, even to herself. This cold sensation was eerily familiar to what she had always felt, but there was also something quite different about it as well.

The religious teenager dared to slowly look over her shoulder to the long corridor behind her, her blood running as cold as the air around her at what she was seeing. Her almond eyes grew wide at the sight, but Elsie made sure that was the only reaction she gave.

There, standing by the door to the forbidden room, was a wispy transparent figure. Even with the vague details of the apparition, Elsie could tell that it was in the form of a woman. The ghost was facing her completely, as if she had been following her moments earlier.

For what felt like an eternity, the two stared the other down, waiting for the first move. Eventually, after an unheard cue, the smoky phantom turned to face the door she was standing in front of. She then stepped through it, her form passing though the solid door. Elsie was hardly fazed at the occurrence, mostly curious of what she was seeing.

The colored teen went over to the deceased wife's room, hesitant about entering. She looked around, checking to see if the coast was clear. The last thing she wanted was to get caught in the room that was now clearly labeled as off limits. This time, though, she felt she needed to.

Coming to a decision, Elsie reached out a cautious hand to grab and turn the knob. Finding it generously unlocked, she opened the door and stepped inside, not knowing what she may find.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

As far as inhabitants go, Elsie saw no one present in the room she had entered. There was a musty smell in the stagnant air, a similar scent to rotting wood and aging paint. Several layers of dust had settled on every available surface, giving them a smoky gray color. It all looked so fragile, so delicate; Elsie almost resisted taking a step farther into the room.

With the curtains lowered, what little sunlight there was outside could not get into this old abandoned chamber. Darkness had taken the cheer from this room just like death had taken the wife that David cherished.

Elsie approached the end table to the right of the bed, seeing what appeared to be a Bible laying forgotten on its surface. With a quick swipe of her hand, the dust was cleared. There was a frown on the silent teenager's face, her eyes shutting as a long sigh passed through her lips.

"What a shame. I hope you find rest, Mrs. Tusspot." Her words were low, the sound barely above a whisper. Elsie said a quick prayer for the woman she assumed was the apparition she had just seen, her solemn look never fading.

There was a sudden click of a brass doorknob being turned, followed by an unrelenting squeak as the closet door slowly opened. It was this sound that spurred Elsie into turning toward the source, a faint look of surprise etched in her features. As far as she could tell, there was nothing in the closet, just a dark void staring back at her. Cautiously, the colored teen began to approach.

Elsie almost expected the ghost to jump out at her to frighten her senseless, but no such thing occurred. All that remained in the closet were a few articles of clothing and a safe, its door opened just a bit. Instantly growing curious of what possible contents remain in the iron box, the religious teenager kneeled down and slowly swung the door until she could see what lie inside.

A single sheet of paper lay untouched in the empty center of the safe, its white surface gleaming back at Elsie even in the faded light in the room. Not quite sure what to make of her discovery, she picked up the solitary page and briefly scanned the first few lines. Honey brown eyes widened soon after.

"A suicide note…?"

"Elsie?" called a familiar voice, the sudden sound startling the dark-skinned teen. Whirling quickly around, she saw that it was Imogene peeking in from the hallway, a concerned expression on her freckled face. "What're you doin' in here? Mr. Niccals said this room's off limits!"

"My curiosity got the better of me. I will be leaving now." Elsie inwardly kicked herself for letting her guard down, facing forward again with a frown. She snuck the note into a pocket in her dress and made her way over to the doorway, then endured a halfhearted scolding from the American teenager before they both departed from the room.

. . .

After the brief chat she had with the gardener Russel, Gwen had left him to continue his work as she entered the mansion. The first person she saw upon walking into the foyer was Evelyn sitting in a couch reading a book, letting the redhead know that her piano lesson must be over for the day.

Summers gave her best friend a passing greeting as she walked by, which was quickly and happily returned. Their temporary caretaker was nowhere to be seen, which led Gwen to believe he was looking after the girls elsewhere. Thinking of Murdoc, her thoughts eventually sailed back to her conversation with Russel.

He had been hired by David as his role of personal gardener only a few short months ago, but had never seen or heard the wealthy man since he had been working here at the Tusspot mansion. This struck Gwen as very odd. How could Russel not have noticed David coming and going from his business? She had assumed that was why he was not present for their arrival.

Russel's suspicions pointed to the family friend of the Tusspots, Murdoc. From what Dave had told him, the peculiar-looking man had originally been appointed as a piano teacher for David's son, but became good friends with the head of the house during his stay. When Gwen questioned him about David having a child, which she had not been aware of, Russel shrugged and told her that was all he knew on that subject, and brought up the suggestion that perhaps the son had perished somehow as well.

A low rumble of thunder was heard from outside, reminding the preteen of the explanation for their adopted father's tardiness. There had been a constant dark cloud hanging over the manor all day, and she had known it would have only been a matter of time until the rain started back up. A dreary end to a dreary day.

As Gwen started up the stairs, she noticed Karen standing at the top of them, her gaze staring off down the long corridor that led to the bathrooms and the other rooms they have not explored. Coming up to the second floor, the redhead almost asked her what she was looking at. She soon remembered that the older teenager would not be able to hear her, so Gwen hesitantly decided to carry on toward her room nearby.

She strolled into the currently vacant chamber, ready to hop on her bed and relax for a while, but the redhead suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. Dark gray eyes stared intently on the plastic doll sitting upright on her bed, weighing down a small piece of paper. The doll's hair was eerily as red as Gwen's, dressed in a casual T-shirt and dark brown shorts. As she moved closer, she noticed what looked like a welt around its left ankle.

"What the hell is this all about?" Her voice fell flat in the otherwise silent room, her face showing confusion at what she had found. Gwen picked up the doll that bore her likeness to see the note underneath, lifting the paper with her other hand to read it.

"_A gift for you, and a gift for me. -S"_

The baffled preteen read the note over and over, but could not understand exactly what it was referring to. She searched her mind for anyone that could have done this, and why. The more she thought about it, the less sense the situation made to her. Eventually, Gwen discarded the doll into a nearby drawer and briskly walked out of her room.

_I'd better show this to Eve. She'll know what to do. _

As she was rounding the corner to descend down the stairs, Gwen spotted Murdoc walking toward her. She assumed he was heading for the stairs like she was, but there was something about him that made the redhead's blood run cold. His eyes, partially covered by his thick black bangs, seemed to leer down at her, the sight making her legs freeze on the spot.

There was something vastly different about him this time, his stance, his expression; it was as if he was frustrated at something, and Gwen had unwittingly walked into his angered sights. Folding his arms behind his back, a gesture so familiar, the dark-haired man spoke up for the first time in this strained situation.

"Wot's that there?" His mismatched eyes snapped to the paper in Gwen's front pocket and stayed there, spurring Gwen to looking at it as well. Before she could answer, Murdoc held out an olive-tinted hand to her. "Give it to me."

After a brief hesitation, and a hint of a perplexed look, the redheaded preteen relinquished the note she found. She knew that the situation she was in could easily turn into an awkward one, having to explain where she had found the paper. For a moment, Gwen wished she had not found it first.

"Where did you get this?" Murdoc inquired after quickly reading the simple sentence on the paper, glaring down at Gwen once again. The unfamiliar cold tone in his voice sent waves of icy numbness through her small body, knowing the tone all too well. The redhead faltered, trying to figure out what she had done wrong.

"I found it."

"Where?" For a split second, Gwen inwardly debated if whether she should tell him or not. One look at the caretaker's narrowed eyes brought her to a decision very quickly.

"On my bed. It was just there when I walked in!" Upon Summers's shaky explanation, Murdoc's expression fell blank, contemplating, clearly thinking over what he had been told. The forced silence between them began to unnerve Gwen, wondering what he was doing. Even though she had not previously liked Murdoc very much before, this sudden shift in attitude worried her greatly.

Clearing his throat subtly and relaxing his angered façade, the dark-haired man folded up the paper and pocketed it. His demeanor had reverted back to the calm, suave adult Gwen had known him for. This change seemed to ease the tension somewhat, allowing the preteen to relax also.

"Very well. I'll look into this. In the meantime, if you find any more, you bring them to _me_. Understand?" The firmness in his voice was back, the sound frightening enough to make Gwen nod quickly in response. Satisfied, Murdoc gave a low, throaty chuckle and ruffled the preteen's hair as he passed her. "That's a good lass. We'll be having a big dinner tonight. Be sure to join us."

With those parting words, David's good friend began his descent to the first floor, leaving a stunned and baffled Gwen behind. It had all happened so sudden, too fast for her to comprehend. She had begun to wonder if the conversation had even happened at all.

. . .

As natural as breathing, day once again slowly rolls into night, signaling a time for settling down and relaxing. Rosie's disappearance weighed heavily on most of the mansion residents, still anxiously waiting a call from the authorities for any possible sign of her. If luck was with them, the lost fifteen-year-old would be found well and alive.

With the final remnants of fading sunlight still visible above the horizon, Murdoc called to the eight adopted girls for dinner. Their stomachs growling, six of the girls made it down to the table in under ten minutes. All that remained were Elsie and Evelyn, who were still lingering in their rooms.

Eventually, the colored religious teenager too joined her spot at the long table, as silent and composed as ever. No one really paid any heed to her arrival, their attention on chatting with their friends and wondering how much longer they had to wait until the food was ready.

Gwen, sitting in her usual spot in the second to last chair on the left, was placed in between two empty seats where her friends would normally be. It was a feeling that uprooted old memories of her early years in the orphanage: isolated, friendless, and alone. Watching the others converse amongst themselves did not help ease her mind either.

Growing more concerned about her remaining comrade who has not yet shown up than the forthcoming meal, the redhead twisted around in her chair until she had a clear view of the staircase, her troubled expression clear as day. She was just about to get up to check on Evelyn herself when Murdoc's gruff voice suddenly ripped through the ambient chatter of the other girls.

"Good evening, everyone. I'd like to report that the authorities have not yet found Rosie, but do not give up hope! Search teams will work around the clock until there is some clue to her whereabouts," he stated with a slightly raised voice, intending to reach the ears of every teenager in the room. "Therefore, I want you all to enjoy this feast Tattoo has prepared for you, to keep your spirits up."

The news only served to damper Gwen's resolve, rather than uplift it. She could not help but wonder where her friend could be, what she is feeling, thinking, and if she was hurt, or worse… The redhead immediately shook those thoughts away, not wanting to tread into that territory. Eventually, her thoughts sailed back to Evelyn and her tardiness.

She hardly noticed the chef bringing in what looked like a fairly large roast on a rolling cart, the side dishes encircled around it. Just as Tattoo set down the main course in the center of the table, Gwen spotted Evelyn making her way into the dining room. She appeared exhausted, perhaps even ill. But before she could ask her what was wrong, Murdoc intercepted the oldest teenager as she was about to get to the table.

"Evelyn, you don't look well. Is everything alright?" The concerned façade was easy to see on the dark-haired man's face, his tone low enough to go unnoticed by the teenaged girls who had begun to set their plates. The youngest of the group, however, listened in with curious eyes.

"I'm just feeling so tired. A lot has happened these past few days…" Evelyn replied with heavy eyes, still managing a meager smile at Murdoc. In turn, he gently pat her shoulder and drew closer to her, apparently attempting to delude his words even more; however, Gwen was able to catch most of it.

"My dear, you must go and rest up. Don't worry about dinner, I'll bring something up later if you'd like."

"Are you sure, Mr. Niccals?" Green eyes snapped up to her temporary caretaker, who nodded with a warming smile. He backed away somewhat, bringing his arms behind him.

"Of course. Please, rest your eyes. You'll feel much better."

Watching from the table, Paula gives a short huff as she fixed her plate. Maria and Lisa look over to her, wondering what brought out such a reaction in her. Before they could ask, the bucktoothed teen spoke up just barely above a whisper.

"Those two sure have gotten really _close_, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah. They're like… almost always together," Lisa stated in a quiet tone as well, looking over to the two of them with a raised brow. She only appeared to be amused at the claim, a vast contrast to her friends.

"Seriously. It's like she's attached to his hip or something." With a short snicker, Maria returned to her dinner. She poked around at the food for a while before adding on, "I guess Murdoc's pickin' favorites."

Paula scoffed again, her dark eyes narrowed as she turned them back to her plate. She was silent for a minute or two, searing in her frustration when she spoke up once again. "We'll see who's the favorite…"

As Evelyn relented and went to go back upstairs, Gwen got up from her chair and ran toward her. If her only remaining friend was not going to eat dinner, she did not want to either.

"Eve! I'm coming too¾!" The redhead was brought to a sudden stop when the caretaker's hand grabbed the back of her shirt, her legs still lurching forward in the momentum. Instantly angered, Gwen looked up at Murdoc with a glare. Despite this, his expression remained blank as he explained his actions.

"You'll only disturb her. Do you not realize how tired she is?"

"It's okay, Mr. Niccals. She knows how to be quiet when I'm sleeping," Evelyn interjected, still keeping her smile strong. "She can eat with me later."

"… Very well." Murdoc released Gwen as he caved in to Evelyn's statement, watching them as they made their way back to their room. He stood in apparent thought for quite some time, his arms hanging loose at his sides, his eyes still locked onto what he could see of the second floor. This peculiar behavior appeared to have caught the attention of the dining girls, who mostly held concerned expressions on their faces.

"Mr. Murdoc? Aren't you gonna eat?" Imogene called out, her inquiry slicing through the voiceless silence in the room. The family friend was brought out of his thoughts by the teen's question; he turned to them with an unreadable look on his face as he answered her.

"I'm afraid not, girls. I have matters I must attend to." He walked briskly to the doorway that led to the kitchen, stopping just before the exit as he faced them one last time. "But do enjoy your dinner. Eat as much as you like."

He was gone soon after he spoke those words.

. . .

With Evelyn already fast asleep, Gwen had no choice but to try and get some shuteye as well. She curled up in the thick blankets of her bed and eventually drifted off into a well-needed slumber. As the hours rolled on, the redhead's previously still form had begun to twitch, shift, and writhe, a sure sign that she was dreaming.

The hallways were long and winding, stretching and turning for what seemed like for miles. Gwen cautiously made her way down these sparsely-decorated corridors, her brow furrowed in obvious confusion. Then, wafting to her like smoke from a fire, the faint sound of sobbing caught the preteen's attention.

She moved about as if she was familiar with the area, following the crying as if it was her sole mission for being there. The more she thought about it, the more she felt that it probably was.

When walking did not seem to get her anywhere, Gwen picked up her pace into a light jog. It soon morphed into a full-on run when the maze of hallways began to take its toll on her. The sound of crying was coming from every direction, sometimes interrupted by blood-curdling screams which startled the redhead.

Then, as she rounded a corner, Gwen spotted a single door at the end of the short corridor. Immediately she went for it, noticing that the constant sobbing was getting louder and more prevalent as she approached. When her hands grasped the doorknob, it felt as cold as ice.

The door opened into what Gwen instantly recognized as the kitchen, the crying ceasing to nothing but a mere whisper. Listening hard for the sound, the redhead stepped farther into the seemingly empty cooking area, noticing that everything appeared to get a bit darker as she moved.

Then, as she drew near the stove, the crying slowly picked up in volume. Like a magnet, Gwen stepped closer to the gigantic oven. She was hesitant, wondering why there would be someone in there. Shakily, the preteen reached out a hand and opened the door to see who had gotten trapped inside.

Before Gwen could even react, a sudden flow of mangled and bloody human body parts poured from the oven. The screaming had reached its highest point, the sound deafening.

With a jolt, Summers shot up into sitting position with a quick, sharp gasp. Her widened gray eyes scanned every inch of the dark room she found herself in, soon recognizing it as hers and Evelyn's. Now more relaxed, Gwen grabbed her fox toy and laid back down with a long, quiet sigh. She was asleep again within the minute, the sound of rumbling thunder going unheard.


	11. Chapter 11

I'd like to take this moment to wish Gwen Summers a happy birthday, who turned 30 yesterday. XD

And now back to your irregularly scheduled chapter update.

**Chapter Eleven**

The day that followed the big feast brought nothing but yet another terrible storm, and a perpetual wave of illness amongst the girls. With Gwen and Evelyn unaffected by this sudden sickness, it led the group of teenagers to believe that it was either the roast itself or one of its side dishes that was to blame. Several of the girls have since recovered by the next day after; only Karen seemed to be the one affected the most.

By the dawn of the seventh day since the teens' arrival, the rain still had not let up. The ground was thoroughly soaked and mushy, countless puddles littering the normally beautiful green lawns.

This dreary weather kept Russel from his daily duties, and was forced to stay indoors for the time being. Dave was on a constant high alert, not wanting a repeat of the previous power outage. Tattoo prepared meals for the mansion occupants just as he always does, though his usually cheerful expression was nowhere to be found on him. This went unaddressed by most of the girls, or they simply did not notice his shift in behavior.

As the small-framed chef put away the newly cleaned dishes in the kitchen, Evelyn stepped quietly in with what looked like concern or uncertainty in her pale features. With her silent footfalls, her presence went unnoticed by Tattoo, who continued to work in deafening silence.

"Mr. Tattoo?" The addressed chef snapped his squinted eyes at Evelyn, clearly surprised to see her there. Once recognizing the black-haired teen, Tattoo quickly regained his composure and gave her a hesitant smile.

"Oh, hello Evie. You need something?" He returned to his previous task after he spoke, his back facing Evelyn once again. She could tell something was bothering him; he would have kept eye contact with her as he waited for her to respond.

"I just have a question to ask," replied the slightly taller of the two, moving to the right side of him to get a better look at his face. She could easily see the peculiar facial features in his expression, silently pleading for the chef to make eye contact. When Tattoo said nothing in response, Evelyn spoke up once again. "What was the dinner a few days ago? Some of the girls got sick from it…"

"Murdoc told me it was pork. Got it from the market," the short man replied lowly, giving Evelyn a quick glance before gluing his eyes back to the pile of dishes before him. There was a minute of silence until Tattoo continued. "It must have been spoiled. I should have checked it better…"

"Is that what's bothering you?" The pale-skinned teenager's words were soft, but firm enough to make Tattoo cease his task. The tension could have been sliced with one of the kitchen knives present in the area, time almost seeming to hold its breath in anticipation for what the chef would say.

"I'm sorry. I'm very busy. If you need answers, you can find them in my living quarters." He did not give Evelyn a chance to say anything to his strange statement, hurrying out the door with brisk steps. Now alone in the silent kitchen, the baffled teenager stood in thought for several minutes, playing Tattoo's words over and over in her head.

Letting out a long and quiet sigh in response, Evelyn ultimately dropped the matter and walked out of the kitchen also. There was nothing more she could do if he no longer wanted to speak to her.

. . .

The storm had left her stuck inside, and bored out of her mind. With Lisa busy with her makeup, and Paula nowhere to be found, left Maria alone to her own devices. This eventually drove her to wander about the gigantic mansion, looking for something to entertain herself.

Everything was made much darker during the storm, the shadows cast by the faded sunlight taking peculiar and sometimes frightening shapes. Maria strode by them, outwardly unaffected by what she had seen. She was practically a grown woman, she told herself; there was no way that shadows could bother her.

Then, as she passed by a closed door, the oriental teen faintly caught the sound of some kind of low rumble. At first she wondered if it was just the thunder she was hearing, but the noise was a little too high pitched to be that. With a raised brow, Maria turned to look at the door.

Her curiosity swelling, she went over to it and turned the knob, finding it unlocked. As it slowly swung open, the room it once concealed was in complete darkness, appearing as a monster's gaping mouth. She could no longer hear the sound, now wondering if she had heard it at all.

Maria, hesitant, slowly stepped into the doorway, hoping to get a better look inside the room. As her eyes adjusted, she could barely make out what appeared to be some sort of kitchen or bathroom, seeing the tiled floor. But she could not see much else.

A constant dripping noise from what she assumed was a leaky faucet was all that she could hear as she crept farther inside, her hand searching along the wall for any sort of light switch. Eventually she found one, but flipping it yielded no result.

Feeling that it was no longer worth satisfying her curiosity over, Maria began backing up toward the open doorway. She was giving the strange room one last look over when a flash of lightning briefly lit up everything inside.

Dark eyes caught sight of a large bird cage sitting on a counter just across the room, containing an avian creature as it was designed to do. The following crash of thunder must have startled the solid black bird, as it gave a sudden and awful shriek that reverberated in Maria's ears.

Startled, the dark-haired teenager stumbled back to the exit. She managed to shut the door before bolting down the empty corridor, silently vowing never to venture there ever again.

. . .

Gwen moved slowly along, her widened eyes reading over yet another note she had found. This one was addressed to her specifically, and it had been eerily accompanied by a small stuffed teddy bear that had been set on top of the paper. She had left the toy behind, much too preoccupied with trying to make sense of all the notes she was getting.

_It's always signed with an 'S'… _the redhead told herself, her brows furrowing in concentration. She had made her way up a flight of stairs, though she was not paying much attention to where she was going. _But there's no one here with an S name. So who…?_

The preteen's thoughts were cut short when a quick _thump _stopped her dead in her tracks. She stood still for a few seconds, and then glanced swiftly over her shoulder, seeing no one with her in the narrow hallway. Taking a minute or so to listen for any more peculiar sounds, Gwen was met with complete silence.

Concluding that she must have just imagined the noise, the youngest shrugged the matter off and continued on down the hall. It was by doing a quick look around that she realized she was in unfamiliar territory, not recognizing the objects placed throughout the long, winding corridor. With the distinct feeling of dread and uncertainty welling up in her, Gwen decided to turn around and head back the way she had came.

The noise picked up again, each sound creating a sort of rhythmic pattern. _Thump, thump. _A pause._ Thump, thump. _No matter how hard she listened, the preteen could not pinpoint the source of the disturbance, the sound seemingly coming from all around her. Still, the thumping continued.

No longer wanting to find out what was causing it, Gwen picked up her pace with increasingly nervous steps, wanting nothing more than to get back to a more recognizable area where she knew the other girls were. In her terrified state, however, she had only managed to end up just as lost as she was before.

The sounds persisted and seemed to pursue her, the redhead now able to determine the source coming from somewhere behind her. When she went to cautiously peer over her shoulder, Gwen saw no one there. It was as if the noise emitted from _within _the walls themselves, the one responsible completely hidden from view.

Her breathing increasing, sweat forming on her forehead, Summers made her way down the unfamiliar hallway with quickening steps, taking quick glimpses behind her more frequently. In her panic, she had crept along the wall as some sort of security, hoping to be able to spot an upcoming attack.

"RAWR!" She did not expect a surprise from a well hidden nook in the wall, which Paula had used to scare the preteen. Drawing back from complete shock, after letting out a frightened cry, Gwen bumped into a thin wooden stand holding a rather old looking vase on its flat surface. It rattled violently before tumbling over, shattering into large shards once hitting the floor.

The sound of the artifact breaking seemed to echo within the manor walls, leaving Paula and Gwen frozen in shock and anticipation. As if coming to a favorable conclusion, the older teen gave a wide and mischievous grin before looking down at the still-stunned Gwen staring wide-eyed at the vase's remains.

"You sure did it now, turtledove. I'm telling Mr. Niccals what you did!"

"Y-you know I didn't mean to¾!" The redhead stopped mid-sentence, her dread only increasing once she spotted Murdoc standing down the hallway. Even from her position so far away from him, Gwen could see a look that could only be outrage in his features. Following her line of sight, Paula turned to look at the approaching caretaker.

"Wot the hell is going on up here?" Murdoc angrily demanded, his eyes snapping to the broken vase and then back to the girls. Taking in their expressions, he spoke up once again. "Why are you two here?"

"Gwen broke the vase!"

"It was an accident!"

"Hush, both of you." The family friend's voice was firm, low, almost threatening. The two teenagers, sensing the malice in his tone, complied with his demand. He tucked his arms behind him soon after, his eyes taking in the scene before him. After a few agonizing minutes, Murdoc placed those small, pinpoint irises back to Paula and Gwen, his anger appearing to quell somewhat. "I asked you why you're all up here, so far away from your friends."

"I got lost…" Gwen admitted, gluing her eyes to her feet as she answered the looming man. She looked as if she wanted to say something more, but decided to keep quiet. The nervous preteen was already in a bad position, and did not want to potentially make it worse.

"And you?" Murdoc's eyes shifted over to Paula, who stood with her arms crossed, looking almost impatient, as if the ordeal was an inconvenience. She gave a single shrug in response, turning her gaze away for a moment before replying.

"Explorin'. Getting to know the place better."

The dark-haired man stared long and hard at them, his eyes almost looking right through them, to their very souls. He was judging them, trying to work out if what they were saying is true. One glance into those inspecting eyes sent a chill through the redhead, feeling that he would take the older teen's word over hers.

"I heard someone cry out. I know it was Gwen, as the tone fit her voice," Murdoc informed, his gaze softening only a little. He was looking directly at Paula, whose nonchalant demeanor dwindled a bit at the caretaker's statement. Appearing curious, he added on with a question that reflected this. "Now why would she scream like that?"

At first, Paula was silent, growing quickly uneasy at Murdoc's leering stare. In her hesitation, she noticed that Gwen went to speak up in an attempt to answer the angered man. Before the preteen could form a sentence, however, Paula's voice quickly drowned out the other's.

"She just screamed so she can pin the blame on me!"

"No! That's not how it went!" Gwen shouted back in her defense, balling her fists and glaring at the older teenager. She went to explain what really happened, but one look into Murdoc's eyes froze her in place, his anger now focused on her.

"That vase was an antique imported from Russia. I can't begin to tell you how _expensive _it was. David will be furious," he began, his eyes narrowing at the clearly frightened preteen. She took a step back, though she knew there was no running from this. "Did you not give a damn if it meant anything to him? Or to _me _for that matter?"

"I'm s-sorry, Mur… M-Mr. …"

"Stammering, are you?" His voice was calm, but his expression and actions betrayed his tone. With firm, angered hands, Murdoc began to unbuckle his brown leather belt, experience telling Gwen what he intended to do with it. "Since your father isn't here to teach you a lesson, I'll have to do it in his place."

"But I didn't mean to!" The redhead recoiled even more, never catching the smirk on Paula's face as she stepped farther back. By this time, Murdoc had pulled his belt from his pants and gestured to her to come to him with his free hand. Tears stung Gwen's eyes, a hollow pain swelling in her chest. "It was an accident…"

"Come here."

"I'm sorry! Please don't!" Her plea fell on deaf ears, it seemed. The angered family friend remained still as a statue, unrelenting.

"I won't ask you again." Even with his firm words of warning, Gwen remained rooted to the spot, her entire form trembling with dread. The redhead could feel the tears peeking out from the corner of her eyes, threatening to fall at any time. She tried to swallow, her throat dry, before she tried once more to disarm her current caretaker.

"Please… I'm sorry…" Before she could even finish, he was in front of her in seconds. He grabbed her upper arm none too gently, forcefully turning her around before bringing his belt down on her backside and bare legs. Gwen screamed and cried out for every whip of leather meeting clothes and skin, desperately trying to wrench out of Murdoc's iron grip.

With every snap of the belt, the sound appeared to get louder in the narrow halls, overpowering even the shouts of pain from the youngest teen. The caretaker shown no signs of stopping his brutal assault, even with red marks already forming on the exposed skin of Gwen's legs.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Murdoc's onslaught came to an abrupt end, his enraged eyes looking over to the other teenager. She had shifted her expression by the time he had glanced her way, but the dark-haired man spotted the taunting smirk that could have only been accompanied by laughter before it vanished.

After what felt like hours to the now crying redhead, she was released from Murdoc's bruising hold. She immediately stepped away from Murdoc and pressed herself against the nearest wall, the tears flowing freely down her face in silent anguish. Still reeling from the ordeal, Gwen did not even think to make a retreat.

"You think it's funny, do you?" The air was so thick with tension that it could easily be cut with a knife. Gwen, in the back of her mind, was glad that Murdoc's wrath was no longer focused on her. As she gently tended to her sore legs, the family friend had stormed over to a now cringing Paula. "You're not without blame either, _turtledove_."

A wave of shock rippled through the girls, but the surprise on the sixteen-year-old's face eventually morphed into fear and dread. She had began to back away from Murdoc, but knew it was hopeless. She was caught.

"Mr. Niccals?"

All eyes fell to where the new voice had come from, seeing a concerned and baffled Evelyn standing just a short distance away.


	12. Chapter 12

Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed this story! It's always appreciated!

**Chapter Twelve**

The strained silence seemed to last forever, the four of them trying to make sense of the situation. After gaining her bearings, Gwen, with tears still streaking down her rosy face, ran over to Evelyn and embraced her tightly. The redhead clung to her older friend as if she was her final lifeline, burying her face in Evelyn's blouse.

"Ahh, hello there, Evelyn dear. Wot brings you here?" Murdoc, appearing as calm and composed as he has always been, questioned with narrowed dark eyes. The black-haired teenager, at first looking down at Gwen silently sobbing on her, placed her baffled gaze to the girls' caretaker.

"I heard screaming, and came to investigate," she explained in a level, firm voice, never taking her eyes off of Murdoc as she spoke. Before anyone else could speak up, Evelyn continued. "What's going one here? Why is Gwen crying?"

"Paula startled Gwen into knocking over one of David's prized vases. I couldn't get the truth out of them, so I gave Gwen a small spanking. Paula will be next," answered the dark-haired family friend, holding his belt beside him. This explanation appeared to anger Evelyn, which did not go unnoticed by the others. Pulling away from Gwen and gently guiding her to stand behind, the green-eyed teen focused her attention on a slightly baffled Murdoc.

"I understand that you had the best intentions, Mr. Niccals. But I implore you to _never _discipline Gwen, _ever_," she stated firmly, her entire body tense in the gravity of the moment. "You leave that up to me."

Murdoc was gravely silent for quite a while, studying the oldest teen's facial features, her stance, the tone of voice she had used. He had never seen this side of Evelyn before, and had been caught off guard by it. The well-dressed man quickly regained his composure and answered her in his regular, calm voice.

"My apologies, Evelyn. I respect your wishes."

"Thank you, sir." The anger had melted away almost instantly, seemingly relieved at the outcome of the ordeal. After dismissed herself and her younger companion, Evelyn and Gwen headed back to their room a few hallways down, leaving Paula alone with Murdoc.

Feeling braver with Evelyn near, Gwen chanced a quick glance behind her to look back at the two left behind. Seeing Murdoc glaring back at her, the redhead swiftly faced forward again with wide, frightened eyes.

With no one around to interrupt him, Niccals now turned his undivided rage to the only girl left. Paula fearfully backed away from him, silently asking herself over and over why the temporary caretaker had begun acting this way, why a broken vase would warrant this sudden violent behavior.

"Now Paula," Murdoc began, cracking his belt like a leather whip. The dark-haired girl flinched at the sound. "Where were we?"

. . .

Never before had Gwen felt so relieved to be in her room again, the space appearing more like a sanctuary than anything else. All she could think about was what had happened only moments before, the look of rage on Murdoc's face, and the sting of his belt on her legs. The frightened redhead could only wonder what brought on his sudden shift in attitude, but she most certainly did not want to experience it again.

"Let me have a look at it, Gwen," directed Evelyn as she approached the silent preteen, her tone gentle and inviting. After some soft coaxing from the older friend, Gwen relented and exposed the angry red welts that had appeared on her small legs.

The marks crisscrossed over themselves, some of them deeper than others. Only one had broken the skin, but just small droplets of blood could be seen. The sight sent a wave of anger through Evelyn, though she managed to keep it in check. She had to be strong for her younger comrade.

"I want you to take it easy for now. Let those legs heal," the black-haired teen instructed, carefully lifting the redhead and laying her down on the bed, her back facing up. Gwen did not protest; she remained completely silent since Evelyn had met up with her in the hallway. Noticing this, the oldest girl frowned. "Whenever you're ready to talk about it, let me know."

With that said, Evelyn stood from Gwen's bed and went to her own. The preteen did not answer her, but it did not bother the green-eyed girl. She knew her rowdy friend would start talking again eventually; all she needed was time.

. . .

The hours had rolled by without much incident, the sun, or what could be seen of it, soon began to set below the thick tree line. Wind and rain pelted the fairly old mansion, though the building held firm to the storm's tempestuous wrath.

"Man, talk about creepy. Why does a house need so many hallways?" The voice of Maria, barely heard over the rumbling thunder that sounded throughout the area, inquired as she and her friend Lisa cautiously made their way down a previously unexplored corridor. With a frown, the dark-haired teen rubbed an arm as if she was cold. "And scary birds, too."

"What's wrong, Maria? You scaaaared?" Lisa taunted, laughing loudly when Maria playfully shoved her. Her smile remained as the blonde continued. "He's got to be around here somewhere. Mr. Murdoc's always close by."

"Yeah. I saw him around not too long ago," Maria replied, her dark eyes watching the paintings as she passed them. As they continued to walk farther, a heavy feeling settled in her chest, a feeling of foreboding. The oriental teen kept her nervousness well hidden, however; she wanted to appear tougher and stronger than her companion. _She _wanted to be the leader while Paula was away.

"He's probably hanging around that Evelyn chick," suggested Lisa with a short snort, her blue eyes narrowed as she inspected her extensively manicured nails, painted as pink as her bag. Her gaze snapped up to a lamp mounted on the wall to their left, having seen it flicker quite drastically before falling back to its regular dim glow. Perplexed, Lisa stopped walking and watched the lamp. "Don't tell me the power's gonna go out again…"

"It better not," spoke the dark-haired girl, she too ceasing her stride and looking at the light-giving contraption. "There'd be no way we'd make it back in the dark like this."

Deciding to carry on with their search, albeit at a quicker pace, Maria and Lisa continued down the unfamiliar hallway in search for their elusive caretaker. The narrow, tastefully decorated corridors were long and winding, akin to a maze. As time rolled n, the girls were beginning to wonder if they would even make it back to the main foyer.

"See any familiar paintings? Windows? _Anything_?" Lisa questioned in a whining tone, now exhausted from the journey. Maria, a firm glare on her face, kept her eyes straight ahead as they traveled.

"Not that I've seen," she answered, briefly glancing behind her to her taller friend. When she faced forward again, Maria came to a sudden stop. Not catching the action in time, Lisa slammed into her, the both of them stumbling.

"What gives, Maria? Warn me before you stop!"

"There's a door open over there," stated the dark-haired teen, seemingly unfazed at Lisa's outburst. Curious of what Maria said, the blonde moved next to her to get a look at what her comrade was seeing.

As the Asian girl had informed, there was a door only slightly ajar, located two rooms ahead of them. They found this quite strange; the rooms were usually shut off, locked, closed up. Yet, here there was a room open and available for access. Being ever curious of their large new home, the girls went over to it.

For a while, the two teens lingered near the door, not sure of their next move. They locked eyes, silently challenging the other for who should go first. Eventually, Maria caved in and hesitantly peered inside.

The room inside was dark, but with the aid of the hallway light, the shorter girl was able to make out a few details in it. A bed, its sheets tattered, ripped, and tossed about, stood in the far right corner. Dolls and other various toys littered the floor, some broken. A single window stared back at Maria straight ahead, the rain and silhouette of a tree branch visible through the glass. From what she could tell, Maria saw no one in this seemingly abandoned chamber.

"Well? What do you see?" Lisa questioned from behind her, deciding to look in also. Upon seeing the room's contents, she too fell silent for a while as she took it all in. "A child's room…?"

"You two are quite out of your area, aren't you?" The teens quickly drew back from the door and looked over at the one who spoke, seeing that it was the man they were searching for. Surprised by Murdoc's sudden appearance, Maria and Lisa sputtered at first for a response.

"Uh, um… We, we were just looking for you," Maria finally replied, spotting Lisa nodding at the corner of her eye. The dark-haired caretaker stared long and hard at them, searching their eyes for any hint of lies. Finding none, he folded his arms across his chest with a stern expression.

"And wot do you girls need?"

"There's policemen here. We told them we'd come and find you," Lisa answered timidly, taking note of his facial features. Maria readily confirmed her taller friend's response, adding on that they were very sorry for wandering into forbidden areas.

"Police?" Murdoc's expression shifted at hearing this new information, becoming distant, lost in thought. The two teens waited anxiously for him to continue, to see if he was still angry at them. Just when Maria went to speak up, the well-dressed man moved forward and gently began guiding them, walking with them. "Come, come, we mustn't keep them waiting any longer!"

. . .

His arrest was swift and timely, but hardly without incident.

The police took Tattoo to the nearest cruiser, its lights flashing silently. Looking briefly over his shoulder, he saw the faces of the girls and the others who have been employed by the head of the household. Their expressions varied: shock, horror, anger, confusion, and possibly the worst of all, disappointment. Unable to bear it, Tattoo looked ahead once again as he got into the vehicle.

"It's a tragedy, wot's happened here," Murdoc stated in a saddened tone, a look of subtle disgust in his features. He and Russel stood a short distance away from the stunned girls, talking to an officer recording the incident.

"Has there been any indication of murderous tendencies?" asked the deputy, keeping himself distant and professional. It was a safe bet to assume that he has dealt with situations like this before.

"Not at all. He's a nice, level-headed guy…" Russel remarked, his eyes looking down as he thought it over. As the officer jotted down his words, the gardener continued. "It just doesn't seem like something he'd do."

"The story is the same for many murderers, Russel. You can never truly know." Murdoc placed his saddened eyes to the broken glasses frame in his hand, easily recognized as Rosie's.

"We will investigate further. Until then, he will remain in custody." The officer bid them a good night and headed for his idling cruiser, he and the other cop pulling out and driving away. The silence that fell over the mansion residents was stifling, none of them knowing what more to say on the matter.

With nothing they can possibly do, Murdoc and several of the girls went back inside, the events of the ordeal weighing heavily on them. Russel, Evelyn, and Gwen remained, now just barely able to see the red and blue lights as they drew farther and farther away.

For several minutes, the three said nothing. There were no words that could describe their reeling emotions, none that they themselves could come up with. But with the choking silence enveloping them, one of the three had to say something, anything, to end the persisting stillness.

"I don't believe he did it," Russel spoke, still staring ahead at the now darkened streets. His statement grabbed the attention of the two girls, both of them looking over at the distraught and glaring gardener. They wanted to agree with him, remembering the kind chef that served them every day and night, but something stopped them from saying so.

"When I spoke to him last, he seemed rather off. Different than how he usually is," recalled Evelyn with a frown, placing her eyes back to the street ahead. There was no response to her comment, and a soft sigh passed through her lips before she carried on. "I want to think he's innocent, but…"

"Feh. I had a feeling he was a creep. I'll never forgive him for killing Rosie," Gwen spoke with venom dripping in her voice, her face twisted in anger. "Let him rot in jail for all I care."

"Gwen, there's no guarantee that he was the one. At this point, he's simply a suspect," informed the redhead's surviving friend, answered by a frustrated grunt from her. Looking back at Russel, Evelyn spoke again. "We're heading in now. You should too, Mr. Hobbs."

"I'll be inside soon. Don't worry 'bout me."

Nodding as a response, the dark-haired teen and Gwen stepped back into the mansion, feeling the stormy winds picking up again. As she went to close the door, Evelyn watched the gardener for a moment, standing as still as the statues that greet all who come to the manor. With the rain beginning to fall, she decided to leave Russel to his thoughts and shut the door.

. . .

Sleep did not come easy for the mansion residents that night, the unsettling knowledge of Rosie's murder, along with the howling winds and pelting rain outside, keeping them awake. As time rolled on, however, most of them did eventually drift off into dreamland.

Those that still remained awake at the late hour, as they too began to fall asleep, could hear a faint noise coming from the floor below. If they concentrated hard enough, they would realize that the sound was music, the kind that could only be played by a piano.

The haunting melody gently wafted through the silent house, eventually lulling those still conscious into an uneasy slumber.


	13. Chapter 13

Thirteen chapters in already, no turning back now. ;D

**Chapter Thirteen**

Even if the sky was not choked in gray clouds, a sense of gloom still hung itself over the residents of the Tusspot manor. Rosie's untimely death came as a shock to everyone, even to those that had bullied her. Tattoo had been arrested, but only under suspicion. The girls could not help but ask themselves if he was the one that did the deed or not, and if not, who could have done such a thing.

Seemingly overnight, Murdoc's attitude and demeanor had taken a dramatic shift, no longer showing the kind, gentle caretaker that they had seen on the day of their adoption a week ago up to that point. He was cold, his stare emotionless and unfeeling, as if his heart had turned to stone. Those that noticed this change eventually ruled it off as the family friend's way of coping with what had happened a few nights ago, deciding not to comment on the matter.

Occupying the main foyer was Elsie, who had taken residence in an armchair quite some distance away from the others, reading her Bible, Imogene and Karen, the brunette lying on a couch, the blonde flipping through a magazine in a loveseat across from her, and Gwen, sitting cross-legged on the floor, her eyes staring at nothing in particular. All of them had not spoken a word since they had taken their spots, none knowing what to say. The teens preferred it this way; they were much too busy dealing with their own thoughts and feelings, and felt they did not need to hear anyone else's.

Ripping though the silence came the sound of boots clicking against the tile floor, signaling the approach of someone. Knowing Murdoc to favor wearing such footwear, the girls came to the assumption that it had to be him.

A horrified look forming in her features, Gwen scooted back until she was hidden by the arm of the couch that Imogene was in. Both she and Karen gave questioning expressions in response to the redhead's behavior, but said nothing to her as the dark-haired caretaker walked in.

He gave a quick look over the teenagers now staring back at him, the faintest hint of a sneer in his features. He saw the gloom in their faces, their sadness at the knowledge of Rosie's death. He clenched his jaw, crossing his arms and letting out a grunt of frustration.

"Wot's this? Moping about, are you?" His words came as a shock to the girls, their expressions shifting from indifference to confusion in a matter of seconds. Their surprised faces did not faze him in the slightest; they appeared to actually spur him on. "No need to get all bent out of shape over it. She's _gone_, she's never coming back."

Gwen, unseen by the angered man, had clamped her hands over her ears in a futile attempt to block his words out. She was not alone in the misery Murdoc's cruel audacity had wrought; Elsie and Imogene eyed him in stunned silence, the former of the two even glaring back at him.

"It's normal for a person to grieve, Mr. Niccals. Rosie was one of us, a sister. What's happened to her was awful, and we will honor her memory," Elsie pointed out in a flat tone, refusing to give the caretaker the reaction he wanted. "Your way of grieving may be different than ours, but you should not suppress it because of that."

Like a flip of a coin, Murdoc's demeanor changed. A cold, hollow chuckle reverberated through the high ceiling room they were in, echoing off the walls and down the desolate corridors. Dark, pinpoint eyes snapped to Elsie sitting just a few feet to his left, taking note of her perplexed facial features.

"You're right." Before the colored teenager could react, Murdoc snatched the book of scriptures from her hands, holding it out of her reach should she try to make a grab for it. She did not. "My way of grieving IS different."

Opening up the old Bible, the oddly behaving man grabbed hold of a large portion of the delicate pages and ripped them out. A collective gasp was heard from Imogene and Karen, completely dumbfounded at what they were seeing.

Elsie only watched with a blank expression.

"And as long as _I'm_ in charge, we're doing it _my_ way." With that, Murdoc dropped the remains of the book, its cover landing amongst the pages viciously ripped from it. For good measure, he stomped on the husk several times, crinkling the remaining pages still hanging on to its bindings.

The three teenagers watched in silence, shocked motionless by Murdoc's behavior; it was all they could do. By the caretaker showing this wicked, angry side of him, a rift had been forged between the girls and he. When Murdoc looked over to them, they only stared back, their gazes solid. A short, unimpressed huff was heard from him, and he cleared his throat lowly.

"And with that, I bid you all adieu." After adjusting his black velvet tie, the peculiar caretaker strolled out of the foyer as if nothing had happened. This was not the case for the teens stunned and appalled at what they had unwittingly became audience to. With the coast clear, Gwen revealed herself from her hiding spot and took in the damage done.

"I knew he was a bad man. I knew it right from the start," Elsie's trembling voice broke through the heavy silence that had fallen over the teenagers; none of them looked her way as she spoke. "God is never wrong. _Never_. I shouldn't have gone through with it. I shouldn't have come…"

"He's… just stressed. The whole Rosie thing, an' all," Imogene tried to give a reason, any reason, for Murdoc's behavior. This was not some stranger that none of them knew, this was their temporary caretaker, the kind, gentle man who had picked them for adoption into the grand mansion of the Tusspots. There had to be a reason for his sudden shift in attitude. "We're _all_ bent outta shape over this. He's just taking it a different way."

"No. This is not the first time he acted out." Elsie turned her sights to the quiet redhead still eyeing the ravaged book in front of her, though her mind was elsewhere. After a brief pause, the colored teen spoke up again. "Gwen, I noticed that you had welts on your legs a few days ago. Where did they come from?"

Imogene was taken aback by Elsie's remark, she too placing her wide dark blue eyes onto Gwen. The American did notice how reserved the youngest of the nine adopted girls had been for the past day or so, but had only assumed that she was just angry or upset over something. With Elsie pointing out her observations, Imogene knew what she was accusing their caretaker of.

The very thought was unfathomable.

Gwen was silent for quite a while, at first looking in every direction but at Elsie herself, and subtly wringing her hands in a nervous way. It became clear to the other teenagers that she was not going to answer the question, but she did not need to. Her body language said it better than she ever could with words.

Unbeknownst to the four girls sitting some distance away, Paula and her two friends had been watching, listening. They had seen the entire ordeal from start to finish, keeping themselves hidden away to avoid the caretaker's wrath. With Murdoc no longer in the vicinity, the three teens left the others to their own devices and conversed among their own group.

"You see? He's gone totally bonkers!" Paula exclaimed in a fierce whisper, pacing back and forth as she thought over all that has occurred. Maria and Lisa, having witnessed the confrontation first-hand, remained silent as they allowed everything to sink in. They watched their friend as she walked in front of them to and fro, not knowing what to say. "I don't know what's going on with him, but he's done this to everyone now. What if he gets worse?"

"He has been acting pretty weird. And now…" Maria trailed off, worry clear in her features. They all fell silent once again, unable to continue with their initial conversation. It was a precarious situation; would Murdoc eventually revert back to what he was like before, or carry on with his antics of cruel punishment and abuse? It was a question, the three felt, that they need to answer first, before their caretaker would strike again.

"We need to get out of here." Paula's words were stern, serious, yet her features remained as blank as a clean slate. Maria and Lisa were not expecting such a statement so soon, but they held hardly any emotion either. They wanted to do the same.

"When? How? And what about the others?" questioned Maria, glancing over at the small group of girls still lingering in the foyer. The bucktoothed leader of the three waved off her inquiry, shaking her head with a frustrated grunt.

"Forget about them, they'll figure it out eventually," she replied as she went over to the nearest window, her dark eyes finding the narrow trail in the thick foliage of the woods surrounding the mansion. She stared at it for several seconds, working out what she was going to say next. "We can meet up in the kitchen, around three in the morning. We'll slip out into the woods and head into town."

"But what if we're caught?" Lisa spoke up for the first time in the conversation, the worry in her expression as clear as day. Paula did not face her to answer the question, still looking out of the window in silent contemplation.

"We won't get caught if we're quiet enough. Everyone else will be asleep by that time."

"Not lately. Have you heard the piano playing? I know you have, Paula. I saw you sit up and listen." The blonde teen's rebuttal silenced Paula, though she still kept her eyes glued to the see-through glass in front of her. When the dark-haired girl did not reply, Lisa continued with a frown. "The only other ones who heard it were Imogene and Elsie. I overheard them talking about it."

"You think it could be Murdoc?" Maria suggested, she too growing worried at the thought. Her two comrades kept quiet for a while, still forming the words to say in response. Shaking her head, the oriental teenager took a few steps back. "I don't know about this, guys."

"So you're chickening out on me? Is that it?" The rise in volume in her voice, seen as anger, was only a mask for her feeling of betrayal. She shared everything with those two, and now she could not be sure if they would not turn around and spill her plans to Murdoc when they saw fit.

"No way, Paula! I wanna get out of here as much as you do," Maria stated in her defense, challenging her friend's animus stance. "I'll meet you in the kitchen if I can. First sign of trouble, though, and I'm out." Lisa promptly agreed to Maria's statement, simply nodding her head. Paula, her anger dwindling, grunted once with a sneer.

"Humph. No kidding. You think I won't do the same?" The tall teen looked back at Elsie and the others, all of them dispersing and heading to their rooms. She sighed with a frown, her shoulders visibly slumping. "We'll break out of here as soon as I spot an opportunity, not a moment sooner."

. . .

Ever since she had set foot in this mansion, nothing seemed to be going right.

Evelyn sighed lowly as she made her way down a long hallway, her steps deliberate and precise. Her eyes were hardened and focused, staring ahead with her head held high. Tattoo's arrest and Rosie's murder had been the last straw; she wanted answers, and she knew where to start.

"_If you need answers, you can find them in my living quarters."_

They were the final words Tattoo had told Evelyn, on the night they took him away on the heavy suspicion of homicide. It was where the teen girl was heading now, to a room near the courtyard where the chef had stayed. She could only hope that her lead would be a genuine one.

_What couldn't you tell me back in the kitchen, Tattoo? _Evelyn questioned in her mind, her eyes still sharp as she stared ahead. She wanted to believe that he had not committed such a heinous act, but it was becoming harder and harder to believe with each passing second.

After passing the open court with a derelict swimming pool and a single swing set, Evelyn finally reached Tattoo's room. For a moment, she stood at the door, silent, contemplating, her confidence dwindling. But after a quick mental reassurance, the seventeen-year-old turned the knob and opened it.

Now able to see inside the room, Evelyn's eyes immediately saw the back of the electrician Dave. His unexpected appearance surprised her, but she did not say anything at first. She was unable to form the words, anyway.

"Tat told me you'd probably 'd be comin'," spoke the normally fidgety man, now looking over his shoulder at Evelyn still standing in the doorway. His voice was calm, level, a characteristic not common for him. Dave then turned around to look at her completely, a frown on his tanned face. "He instructed me to give you this 'ere."

The electrician held a worn pocketbook out to her, many corners of photos and newspaper clippings sticking out of its yellowed pages. At first Evelyn was confused and wary, looking at Dave with fearful, questioning eyes. But after some consideration, she tentatively accepted the offered item.

"He's really come to trust ya, I'd say. He's always been real careful 'bout who he shares info with." Dave made his way past Evelyn, walking out into the empty courtyard. His back was facing her again, his shoulders squared and his stance stiff. The pale-skinned teen only frowned in response, not knowing what to say to him. The stocky electrician continued instead. "Be careful with that, yeah? It meant a lot to him."

Without looking back at her, Dave set off toward the door that led back into the mansion, leaving Evelyn by herself once again. For a while, all she could do was watch him as he left, her thoughts reeling at what had occurred. She then placed her eyes to the journal in her hands, holding it like fragile glass.

"I'll make the most of it."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Flipping through several pages of the pocket journal that she had received, Evelyn skimmed over the notes and musings the accused chef had scribbled down. Many of the clippings showed articles depicting murders that have yet to be solved, some of them with Tattoo's writing jotted in empty spaces.

"_Four young women listed missing, bodies never found. A man from London vanished two weeks ago, his whereabouts are still unknown. Five children listed missing, last known sighting around the well-known Tusspot mansion. The mothers plead for their children's safe return…"_

Evelyn snapped the journal closed with widened eyes, unable to bring herself to continue reading. She wondered what purpose having something like this would serve, and why Tattoo bothered to have it in the first place. As some time passed, the teen figured that she would have to keep looking through it to find out, but most certainly not right now.

Putting the pocketbook away, the black-haired teen then made her way back to the door Dave had passed through minutes earlier. The storm had seemingly lifted for the time being, or perhaps for good, Evelyn hoped. The sunshine was fighting its way past the thick gray clouds, several slivers of light managing to break through. The feeling of the sun's warmth on her skin lifted the teenager's spirit, if only a little.

Walking into the mansion, Evelyn took note of how strangely quiet the building was. There would always be some sort of sound in the gigantic house, no matter where one was inside. But now, it was as if someone had turned on a mute button to the mansion interior.

Slightly unnerved by this, the oldest adopted teen made her way almost cautiously toward the elegant staircase that led to her room. As she approached, the faint sound of crackling fire tickled her eardrums, the snapping and popping alerting her to its location.

She followed the subtle noise, coming from a darkened room near the stairs ascending to the second floor. Peering inside, Evelyn spotted Murdoc sitting in a large leather armchair facing a burning fireplace, which was the room's only source of light at current. He had not noticed her, his gaze locked intently on the bright orange flames.

His form was motionless, stone still, as if he had been frozen where he sat. Because of this, Evelyn felt that she should not disturb him and silently moved on. Perhaps she was not the only one with a lot on their mind, she figured. Her mind made up, she ascended the stairs to head to her room, where she hoped to find rest for her weary thoughts.

. . .

"I wish I knew what the hell was going on here…"

Gwen, the one who had spoken, sat on a large couch located in an entertainment room, visibly uncomfortable in not only her position, but in the situation she and her adopted sisters were in as well. The thought almost made her chuckle; she had a feeling that they never truly were in the first place.

The redhead was joined by an equally concerned Russel, sitting next to her with facial features mirroring hers. She had walked in moments earlier, while he had been watching television during his break. Russel, too, had caught the shift in Murdoc's behavior, but had wisely said nothing to him about it; it had spared him the violent outbursts and peculiar antics he had been told of.

"You and I both. He's never been like this since I've been here," stated Russel lowly, keeping his almond eyes on the television screen ahead of them. After a moment of contemplation, the gardener continued. "Dave and Tattoo never reported such behavior, either. They've been employed far longer than me."

"They're all really fishy, the three of them. What if they're all in on it?" Gwen suggested, looking up at the gardener with contempt in her eyes. Russel did not react to her words, only glancing down at her with a frown.

"None of us can really be sure…"

The two said nothing more, the only sounds now coming from the TV. They had left it on a news channel, not really paying enough attention to notice. But as they watched, a weatherman had begun his forecast for the day, walking in front of a screen displaying the temperature and current weather. Behind the number, a big eighty eight degrees in bright white, an orange cartoon sun was depicted, which obviously meant that the day was reported to be sunny and cloudless. A quick look outside told otherwise.

"_We're looking forward to another week of clear, sunny skies, just as we had the week previous. Back to you, Katrin."_

"'Just as we had the week previous'? It was raining since we got here!" Gwen shouted, a hand outstretched toward the television, as if trying to further her point. Seconds later, she crossed her arms and sulked as she mumbled, "stupid adults, gettin' the weather wrong…"

"It is kinda strange," Russel remarked, a hand on his chin in thought. The mansion was not far from the area described, only a twenty minute drive away. By having it rain there, the news would have reported as such. "It's gotta be an error…"

"Either way, at least the rain's stopping," stated the redhead as she slid off of the couch. She looked back at Russel with a tiny smile. "See ya around, Russ."

"Later, Red."

. . .

"_Dave and I landed the job. Hopefully, with some careful police work, we'll get to the bottom of this. Though, since we're not cops, we can only hope this all goes smoothly. -Tattoo"_

Evelyn's bright green eyes were locked onto the scribbled notes before her, having began reading the journal since she had walked into her room. It had revealed many things about the chef that the teen would have never guessed, and about the electrician as well. The two had apparently been investigating a string of mysterious disappearances over the past year, and the trail had led them to the Tusspot mansion.

_So then… maybe Tattoo can't be the murderer, if he was out to catch one… _Evelyn closed the pocketbook slowly, her gaze empty as she let the information sink in. She then looked to the window, spotting the sunlight peeking through the thick clouds. _If Tattoo didn't kill Rosie, then who did?_

It was all too much to comprehend at once, everything that has happened. She figured she would be better composed after a long, warm bath: her favorite stress reliever. With her mind made up, Evelyn gathered up another change of clothes and other toiletries before heading out.

The bathroom was not a long walk from her bedroom, so the teen girl was there within minutes. It was very spacious, as one would expect to see in a mansion. The fine porcelain sink was located to the immediate right, a large mirror that also served as the door to the medicine cabinet hanging above it. A wall separated the sink from the rest of the bathroom, the opening directly across from the entrance door. Walking through it, Evelyn had access to the toilet and bathtub, made in just as fine a quality as the sink.

Setting down her belongings on a clothes hamper near the tub, the seventeen-year-old went to prepare her bath. Steam from the running water rose weightlessly upward in smoky gray wisps, the warmth generated creating a light haze in the tiled chamber. As Evelyn went to shed her attire, the sight of numerous bubbles in the tub caught her attention.

There was nothing in the water to create them, and it baffled the black-haired teen. Looking closer, she also saw that the once clear liquid became murky and dark. It was as if someone had dropped a handful of mud into it. Unable to stand looking at it any longer, Evelyn reached in to unplug the drain to dispose of the dirty water.

Like a spring, a gray-skinned, rotten arm shot out of the cloudy depths and grabbed hold onto Evelyn's. Immediately she cried out and pulled back, managing to escape the hand's grip and fell to the floor. She watched the grotesque limb retreat back into the tub, her eyes widening as they trailed up to the wall above it.

A large, inky black mass stained the once empty space, emitting a strange slurping sound. The noise wafted lowly throughout the bathroom, almost tangent as it hung in the air. It was almost too thick to breathe.

Much to Evelyn's horrified dismay, she saw something begin to emerge from the dripping blot of an unknown substance. As it crawled out, the teen instantly recognized it as the gasmask-wearing phantom, staring directly at her with circular crimson eyes.

Once its upper body was revealed, Evelyn gained a moment of clarity and scrambled out of the bathroom, stumbling into the hallway. She saw Imogene and Karen looking at her in surprise, not knowing what to make of the ordeal. But as the shock quickly dispersed, the two hurried over to the distraught teen and helped her to her feet.

"Evelyn! What happened?!" Imogene cried, her tone filled with worry. Karen mirrored this in her expression alone, showing her feelings as well. The oldest of the three was visibly trembling, her eyes as wide as dinner plates. It took some time for her to be able to form a coherent response, but she spoke carefully.

"I saw… something. In the bathroom," she said lowly, pointing a shaky hand to the open doorway she had just tumbled through. "I see him everywhere. I can't take this anymore!"

"Hold on, calm down. Who'd ya see?"

"A-a ghost, I think. He wears a gasmask. Everything else is like a… black shadow or something." Evelyn's eyes fell to her feet and stayed there as she carefully formed the words in her head, hoping that Imogene would believe her. In the back of her mind, she had a feeling that it would not be so.

"I'll have a look." Imogene's voice was firm, at that moment the pillar of strength amongst them. Evelyn stared into the American's eyes for a moment or two, hoping to see a shred of belief in them. She knew what she saw, but had delayed telling anyone about it until now; if anyone were to believe her, she felt that Imogene would be one of them.

Evelyn gave a single nod in confirmation, the gesture seen as an approval to investigate. Walking past them, Imogene stepped carefully into the bathroom. She was watched by Evelyn and Karen, their eyes locked onto her as she proceeded farther inside.

As she had somewhat expected, the tiled room was completely vacant, the only sounds coming from the water still rushing out of the faucet. With a frown, the brunette turned the nozzle until there was nothing coming out.

On any other day, Imogene would have dismissed such a claim, ghosts and the like. Ever since that night when they played that ghost glass game, since Rosie's disappearance, however, her views had changed. The fact that it was Evelyn, calm and collected as she is, who had became so frightened and disturbed also strengthened the claim. The seventeen-year-old was never known for overreacting.

"There's nothing there, Evelyn. At least not any more," stated Imogene as she made her way back to her adopted sisters, visibly frowning. Easily spotting the look of disappointment in Evelyn's expression, the brunette continued. "You should head to your room and relax. In fact, I bet we could all use a little R and R."

"You have a point… This has been a long, eventful week." Evelyn sighed as she spoke, her eyes staring down at the floor once again. She flashed Karen a small, warm smile as the two began walking toward their room; the oldest teen had followed close behind.

_Time…_

Evelyn came to a quick stop, momentarily frozen where she stood. Not seeing her actions, Imogene and Karen continued moving ahead. The teen girl did not care to notice this at that point in time, much too focused on determining the source of the whispery sound, or if she had even heard it at all.

_Time will cause adherence._

The same phrase was spoken repeatedly in faint wisps of noise, the source coming from every direction. Baffled, Evelyn willed herself to look around the narrow hallway to locate whomever or whatever was causing the whispers. As she had half expected, she saw no one in the area.

When the voices finally subsided, another quiet sigh passed through the dark-haired teen's lips. Deciding to rule the matter off for now, Evelyn made her way to her currently empty room, where she hoped to find the peace of mind she so desperately craved.

The bath would have to wait.


	15. Chapter 15

Gotta keep em coming, we're getting to the good part!

Gorillaz belong to Damon and Jamie, not I.

**Chapter Fifteen**

For the rest of the afternoon, Evelyn had slept comfortably for the first time in what felt like ages to her. When she awoke from her well-needed nap, the sun had just begun to touch the horizon, casting several soft, fiery colors into the sky. It was as if a painter had guided his brush through the clouds.

Now well rested, Evelyn ventured out to the main lobby, where some of the other girls were lounging. There was no sign of Murdoc anywhere, at least not in the usual places he frequents. As she took in her surroundings, the green-eyed teen noticed that she saw none of the remaining adults wandering about-a strange sight to see, as there was always an adult present or nearby.

_They must be busy, _Evelyn told herself with a small frown, looking across the large foyer to Paula and her friends. They sat in a circle of armchairs and couches, talking quietly amongst themselves. The older teenager could only imagine what they were discussing, but decided not to bother and moved on.

It had started to rain again, Evelyn noticed, the view outside made darker by the persistent gray clouds. It was a depressing sight, especially after experiencing a brief break in the storm only hours before. But these feelings quickly subsided; she was well-rested, and much more content because of it. After this uplifting reminder, Evelyn grabbed a book from a nearby shelf and sat down.

The book was one of her favorites-_Alice in Wonderland_. She felt she could relate to the classic tale of outlandish creatures and characters, and hung on every word printed on its pages. Evelyn was surprised to see it here.

"Hey," called a familiar feminine voice, catching the older teen's attention. Looking to her left, she saw that it was Maria who had spoke. Her face was slightly scrunched in what Evelyn assumed was contempt, her hands on her hips as she stared back at her. "I heard of your little scare earlier."

Evelyn grew uncomfortable at the statement, but noticed that Maria appeared even more so than she. The Asian teenager had looked out of a nearby window when Evelyn responded with a simple "and?", her arms now folded across her chest. She kept her eyes to the sight outside when she spoke again.

"You okay?"

Shock ripped through Evelyn's body like a bullet, visibly taken aback by the inquiry. She stared back at her in dumbfounded confusion, expecting her to tell her that she was just kidding, or that her friends would come out laughing and taunting her for falling for their trick. They never did.

Scrambling to respond, Evelyn managed to sputter out the words. "Y-yeah. I'm fine… Thank you."

With a quick sneer and a weak wave, Maria walked away. Her muttering voice did not go unnoticed by Evelyn, and her shock slowly ebbed into nonexistence, paving the way for a small smile to appear in her features. Feeling invigorated, the teen placed her eyes back to the book in her lap, reading on where she had left off.

Thirty minutes or so had passed before Evelyn decided to stop reading for a while, her expression showing surprise at having lost track of time. She closed the bound object of literature and placed it back on the shelf she had gotten it from, then casually made her way up the stairs and toward her room down the hall. As she came closer to the slightly opened door, Evelyn began to hear muffled shuffling within the room. She approached with caution, and slowly peered in through the narrow opening.

She spotted a clearly upset and frustrated Gwen; she was digging through one of the suitcases she had brought from the orphanage, throwing articles of clothing and other random items in her wake.

More than a little curious of Gwen's behavior, Evelyn opened the door and walked in. Her presence drove the redhead to cease her actions, looking over at her older adopted sister with a troubled expression.

"Gwen, what's the matter?"

"Mr. Fox! He's gone! I went to get him and he's gone!" Gwen cried out, clearly frantic and upset. She did not wait for Evelyn to reply before picking up her frenzied search once again. "I looked all over, but I can't find him!"

"Are you sure you left him in here? You could've left him somewhere else," offered Evelyn, fully concerned for the preteen's plight. The stuffed fox toy meant quite a lot to Gwen, being the only memento she has of her late mother. She had died when the redhead was only an infant, and has no other memories of her.

Mr. Fox was all she had.

"I… I don't know. I thought I left it up here…" Gwen paused in her search as she spoke, her eyes still wandering around the room. "But it's obviously not here, so…"

"I'll go downstairs and ask around. Maybe someone knows something," Evelyn suggested in her calm, soft voice, gently grasping the younger of the two's shoulder. She received a silent nod from Gwen, who remained as still as a statue, her thoughts elsewhere. With a frown, Evelyn removed her hand and headed back to the open doorway. "I'll be right back."

Now alone once again, Gwen urged herself to continue searching. She knew she had left her fox toy in her room, there was no doubt in her mind. She figured that her older friend could possibly find a hint should Mr. Fox had been taken; her first thought went to Paula and her lackeys.

But there was still a possibility that she could have just overlooked it, though, so Gwen carried on in her endeavors. Eventually her search led her to the wardrobe to the farthest right of the room, opening its doors with her usual scowl. As she had expected, only clothes greeted her upon its reveal.

Just as she went to close the old wooden doors again, a small glimpse of white caught her eye. Her brow furrowed, Gwen kneeled down to get a better look at it, moving several coats out of her line of vision.

It was a small note, held down by three metal chain links. The redhead gave a soft gasp at this discovery, knowing all too well what it was. With a hand trembling only slightly, Gwen slid the piece of paper away from its heavy captor and brought it close to read the message she knew was there.

"_There is no sense in denying it anymore,_

_You can visit me anytime, I greatly implore._

_Or should I visit you? Not that I haven't already_

_Only time will tell, straight and steady. -S"_

Understandably unnerved by the scribbled poem, Gwen scrunched the paper in her hand, her eyes wide and wavering. For several minutes she stood in the same spot, staring at the opened wardrobe in a daze. After a while, she slowly regained her composure, carefully gathering her thoughts as she closed the wooden doors in front of her.

_I need to give this to Murdoc. But… _The preteen's musings were cut short at the sound of footsteps entering the room behind her. Thinking nothing of it, Gwen peered over her shoulder to look at them, assuming it was Evelyn returning with some news. Shock soon rippled through her once seeing Murdoc standing there instead.

Before Gwen could respond in any way, a swift and harsh slap was dealt to her, the force sending her to the ground. Immediately she brought a hand to her right cheek, already beginning to turn red from the unexpected blow. With pain-filled eyes, she looked back at her assailant.

"You've been avoiding me. You thought I wouldn't notice?" The uncaring man loomed over Gwen, who could no longer hold eye contact with him. Growing angry at not being answered, Murdoc grabbed hold of the preteen's red hair and yanked it to where she was facing him. "You're a little coward. One whipping and you run with your tail between your legs?"

Again, no response was heard from the frightened redhead. Enraged, Murdoc pulled her to her feet none too gently, a quick cry of protest emitting from Gwen as a result. Panicked, she squeezed her eyes shut, anything to keep her from looking at the caretaker.

"Nothing to say, hmm? I suggest you stop running and face me, if you want to stay on my good side."

Murdoc released Gwen after he spoke, much to her relief. In doing so, the dark-haired caretaker spotted the crumbled note on the floor nearby, dropped during the confrontation. His body tensed up once again, and he shoved Gwen to get to the discarded piece of paper.

Dread instantly fell over Gwen like a rogue wave, inwardly cursing at the unfortunate turn of events in such a short time. If only she had went with Evelyn, or had her stay in the room with her…

In one fell swoop of his hand, Murdoc snatched up the note and read its short scribbled message. He then fell still, presumably contemplating over what he had found. Those few fleeting moments felt like ages to Gwen, who remained frozen where she stood, fearful eyes locked onto the man that had been so cruel to her.

Mismatched eyes snapped her way, and she felt her heart skip a beat.

"I thought my instructions were crystal clear," he began, clenching the hand that held the note tightly. He turned his body to the preteen, which she reacted by taking several steps back. He then proceeded in tearing the note to shreds, the small flakes falling weightlessly to the floor in a flurry of white. "I told you to come to me when you've found more of these, did I not?"

"Y-yes…"

"And yet here is yet another note, tossed aside like it was nothing. I haven't seen this one, _where _did you get it?" Murdoc's voice gradually began to rise in volume as he spoke, moving steadily closer to Gwen and towering over her. The redhead could only stammer out a few words before the caretaker grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. "You've been wandering about the mansion again, haven't you?!"

Gwen writhed and tugged in an attempt to escape the man's iron grip, but to no avail. All she received for her efforts was another painful slap to the face.

"_Haven't you?!"_

"NO!" The redhead was released, her small frame tumbling to the floor once again. She took this opportunity to scoot away from him, the tears momentarily blinding her.

The second slap had left a scratch on Gwen's cheek, small specks of blood peering out of the fresh cut. A flash of a grin dashed across Murdoc's face, but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

"No, you say? Wot a lying brat you are," stated Murdoc, his voice low and dripping with venom. He approached the redhead in long, firm strides, once again towering over her with the intent to intimidate. The tactic certainly worked. "Then how the fuck did you come across these notes?!"

The following hits came so fast that they seemed to blend into each other, accompanied by the same query asked again. It was only after a fourth that Gwen managed to blurt out an answer to the caretaker's question, having curled up to shield herself from his cruel hand.

"It was in here! I was looking for Mr. Fox and I found that note instead!" Murdoc stopped, his hand suspended mid-strike. His outlook, which had previously been anger, immediately shifted to stunned silence as Gwen continued. "I was going to give you the note. Honest!"

"Mr. Fox… A fox toy." Murdoc appeared studious as he lowered his hand, his eyes staring off into nothing. Realizing that the onslaught had ceased, the redhead uncurled herself and scampered away. She only stopped because of the wall blocking any further escape. The dark-haired man looked over at her some time later, a faint grin on his tanned face. "I see. I suppose I owe you an apology."

Gwen said nothing. Murdoc, undeterred, moved in between Evelyn and the preteen's beds, standing in front of the end table against the wall. This was followed by near complete silence, Gwen's sobs being the only sound in the room. The redhead hardly paid any mind to Murdoc as he went back toward the doorway.

"Suck it up, Gwen. It was for your own good," he stated sternly, his back facing Gwen as he spoke. Several sniffles were his only response. With blank pinpoint eyes, Murdoc looked over his shoulder before speaking again. "You wouldn't have learned anything otherwise."

Mere seconds after the words left his mouth, the caretaker was gone. Relieved, Gwen allowed the tears to fall. The salty liquid mixed with the small spots of blood from her cut, the exposed flesh searing with stinging pain. It mattered not to her at that point in time; she was only glad that the menacing man was gone.

. . .

Evelyn strolled into the room quite some time later, regretfully informing Gwen that no one knew the whereabouts of her toy. But when she had gotten a good look at the battered redhead, she stopped dead in her tracks. The bruises on Gwen's arm and face were already beginning to show; the scratch on her right cheek had stopped bleeding, but still shown an angry red on the tender flesh around it. Appalled at what she was seeing, Evelyn rushed over to Gwen with an expression of complete concern.

"What on earth happened, Gwen?!" At first, her demand was left with no reply, only muffled sobs as the younger teen had buried her face into Evelyn's shirt. The black-haired young woman was patient with her crying comrade, allowing her to let the emotions spill out.

After some time, the redhead finally spoke, explaining everything that had happened during her absence. The more Gwen carried on, the more shocked Evelyn became. She had made it very clear to Murdoc that he would not harm her younger charge, and yet she was being told it had happened again.

At first Evelyn did not want to believe it, only knowing the kind, caring gentleman that had picked them all out for adoption. But the evidence glared back at her in plain sight; she was more inclined to go with Gwen's explanation than her own feelings at that time.

"Stay here, Gwen. Lock the door, and don't open it for anyone until I come back, okay? I'll have a word with Mr. Niccals about this."

"He's a bad man, Eve. He won't stop cos you said so…" Gwen said in a voice low and shaky. The tears had stopped falling now, but the fear remained as strong as it had been. Frowning with a short sigh, Evelyn gently patted the preteen's head.

"Don't worry. It'll all work out."


	16. Chapter 16

Well, this is that chapter where stuff starts to take a turn for the worse, rating-wise. You've all been warned. :3

**Chapter Sixteen**

Night had set upon the lonely mansion in the woods, accompanied by a fierce storm that pummeled the old building. Only a few lights were on in the gigantic structure, the majority contained in the main foyer located to the front, the rest dotted in various rooms belonging to the girls.

Resonating throughout the mansion was the distinct sound of music from a piano, heard even over the pelting rain outside. Evelyn followed this sound, her posture tense and her steps quick and firm. She knew only one resident could be creating the music she was hearing.

Within minutes, Evelyn came upon the music room. Looking in through the open door, she saw Murdoc sitting at the grand piano, his back facing her as he played. The tune was sorrowful, the low notes accenting the sad melody from the caretaker's masterful playing. As much as Evelyn enjoyed the music he was creating, her resolve to confront the man overruled her pleasure.

"Mr. Niccals." Her tone was firm, matching her serious expression. Even over the music, Murdoc heard her loud and clear. The playing stopped.

"Ahh, Evelyn, my star pupil. How are you?" Murdoc jovially greeted as he turned in his seat to face her. Despite seeing the angered look on Evelyn's face, the caretaker continued. "Would you like to sit and play with me? We haven't spent much time with each other lately."

"No, I won't spend time with someone who harms children," the teenager stated firmly, clenching her fists tighter. Murdoc did not react to her words. "I gave you a request, yet you turn around and hurt Gwen worse than before!"

There was no immediate reply, the caretaker staring back at her with blank eyes. A quick, sudden chortle passed through his lips, creating a toothy smirk across his olive colored face. Evelyn only blinked, not wanting to show her bewilderment.

"You saw that, did you?"

"Yes, I did. And I don't think it's any laughing matter, Mr. Niccals." The anger rose in Evelyn with each passing second, completely baffled at the caretaker's crude behavior. Seemingly unfazed, Murdoc rested his arms on his legs as she spoke again. "There are _bruises _on her arms and face! What made you do such a thing?!"

"She was being an overall brat to me, as usual. I could let her get away with such mischief no longer." The pianist rose from his seat, tucking his hands behind him as he approached Evelyn. He stopped only a few feet away. "It's no wonder why anyone in the orphanage gave a damn about her. The little monster should be grateful I even decided to take her."

"How dare you say such things! What is _wrong _with you?!" Much too appalled to wait for an answer, Evelyn turned back to the doorway behind her and started walking. "I aught to phone the police for such abuse."

Within seconds, the door was suddenly slammed shut before she could pass through the exit. Glancing up, Evelyn saw Murdoc's hand pushing on the old wood. She followed his arm over to his smiling face, her own features showing she was not amused with the act.

"Open the door, Murdoc."

"Wot a pretty face, finely dressed in rage." The caretaker's tone had shifted; it was low, but not as quiet as a whisper. The sound made Evelyn's blood run cold, her features revealing her confusion. She had no time to react before Murdoc pinned her to the door. "How I've longed to see this side of you."

"What are you doing? Get away!" Evelyn pushed and shoved, and was finally able to squirm out of his grasp and backed away. She could feel the warmth of the fireplace behind her, spurring her to stop.

Evelyn's escape did not hinder Murdoc's resolve in the slightest, his smirk remaining. He undid his black velvet tie as he locked the door; he approached the frightened teenager with calm, even steps.

"Don't be so modest, Evelyn. I know how you stroll around in those fancy clothes, leading me on," said the caretaker suavely, tossing his tie aside. It was difficult to know whether he saw the appalled look on Evelyn's face, or simply did not care to. "I've shown a great amount of restraint for quite a while, but I can no longer hold myself back."

Evelyn immediately thought of the journal Tattoo had left her, and all of the condemning evidence that he had gathered into its pages. When she reached for her pocket, her heart sank at the recollection of her leaving it in her room. With great dismay, Evelyn realized that the chef may have been right all along.

"Looking for this?" Murdoc held up the pocketbook, earning a shocked glance from the teenager. Seemingly unfazed, he casually lowered it and began flipping through its old, crinkled pages. "This was Tattoo's, wasn't it? It's amazing how close he came to figuring everything out. I had a hunch that something wasn't right about him, so I had him… removed."

He snapped his eyes to Evelyn once more, visibly frowning. "I prefer that nosy sod in prison rather than I. All those poor, frightened children. Such injustice, their murderer left to roam free. "

With one quick toss, the caretaker callously threw the journal into the crackling fire nearby. Evelyn cried out, but there was nothing that could be done for all of Tattoo's hard work. The pocketbook was incinerated within seconds.

"Rosie had a similar reaction, several nights ago," Murdoc mused, catching Evelyn's attention. He had a hand on his chin, the same smirk from before returning. Seeing that the black-haired teen was looking his way, Murdoc continued. "She was so scared, and came to me for comfort. Poor thing, disappearing so suddenly."

"You…"

"It was a good thing she made it to dinner that night, though. The girls seemed to enjoy her company," the dark-haired caretaker continued, a mirthless chuckle following. He removed his hand from his chin, bringing both to the first button of his dress shirt to undo it. "Perhaps a bit too much, if you ask me."

"So it was you… who was behind all these disappearances?" Evelyn asked, although she knew the answer. A cold, cruel chuckle was heard from Murdoc, giving her the confirmation she had dreaded. A third button was undone, a gold inverted cross necklace revealed.

"Yes, it was me. But I never work alone."

. . .

By five minutes, Gwen only sat on her bed, nervously wringing her hands. By ten minutes, Gwen was up and pacing the room, her breathing uneven and labored. When twenty minutes had passed, the redhead stood stone still in front of the closed door, staring at it in complete concentration.

_How long does it take to confront him about it? Why isn't she back yet? _After an unseen cue, Gwen began to pace once more, her anxiety reaching critical levels. She was sore all over, and knew she needed to be taking it easy, but a nagging feeling kept her moving and her worry strong.

Her mind raced with possibilities of what could be keeping Evelyn, some of them reasonable, the rest too outlandish to be true. Regardless of this, Gwen stopped before the door yet again, her full attention on her thoughts.

_It's been too long. I can't wait around anymore. _Her mind made up, the redhead unlocked the door and slowly opened it, the dark hallway greeting her. Peering out into the corridor, Gwen saw that it was void of any soul. Other than the rumbling thunder and the tree leaves rustling in the wind outside, all was quiet and empty.

It had taken quite a lot of courage to gather before Gwen hesitantly stepped into the hallway, each step becoming steadily easier to take. She decided to leave the door open, the light inside serving as a beacon when she would return.

_With Evelyn, if I find her, _she added with a hard swallow.

. . .

"Now… where were we?" Murdoc inquired, gazing upon Evelyn's horrified face. He approached the frightened teenager as he unbuckled his belt, sliding it out of the loops in his pants in one swift motion of his arm.

Evelyn backed away from the man revealed to be a killer, though she only had so much room to retreat. She warned him to stay away from her, but her words fell on deaf ears.

He was on her before she could react, feeling herself fall onto an old couch that had been nearby. She fought back with everything she had, but her thin frame was no match for Murdoc's more muscular bulk. Pinned to the cushions beneath her, Evelyn did the only thing she could do.

She screamed.

. . .

The blood-curdling shout reached Gwen, who had made her way down the stairs to one of the smaller foyers. Recognizing the voice, the preteen rushed toward the source of the sound. When the noise stopped, so did she.

"Eve?! Where are you?!" she cried, hoping to get another indication to where her friend could be, and why she was screaming in the first place. Not getting a prompt, Gwen moved forward on shaky legs. "Eve!"

Eventually she came upon another lobby, lit up occasionally by a quick flash of lightning. The painted portraits hanging on the walls seemed to glare down at Gwen as she hesitantly stepped farther in, watching her every move. Something about this high-ceiling foyer unnerved the redhead, feeling as if she was being watched by someone other than those in the paintings.

Gwen pushed the frenzied thoughts from her mind, attempting to focus on the task at hand: finding Evelyn. She could no longer be sure if she was getting closer or not. In spite of such possibilities, the redhead urged herself on.

As Gwen came closer to the door that led out of the foyer, she was forced to stop when something came crashing down directly in front of her. Startled, she stumbled back, all the while straining to see what had fallen.

Then, movement, a subtle shift in weight as the figure shrouded in darkness slowly stood to its full height. Gwen's eyes, now adjusted to the dark, could faintly make out the form of a tall, lanky man.

When two wide, solid white eyes locked onto hers, Gwen froze in complete fright.


	17. Chapter 17

Gorillaz are owned by Mr. Albarn and Mr. Hewlett. Happy reading!

**Chapter Seventeen**

Gwen could hardly comprehend what was going on before her.

The figure, what she could see of him, leaned on what looked like a large pair of garden shears. The closed blades were embedded in the wooden floor from the impact of his fall, which had absorbed most of gravity's force on the stranger's body.

Gwen remained still, unsure of this new face partially hidden by messy blue bangs. For several seconds they stayed rooted where they stood. Two pairs of eyes, one solid white and unblinking, the second wide and fearful, gazed deep into the other. Gwen saw nothing in those pools of white, as blank as a sheet of paper.

Then, a crooked grin spread across his face, his teeth gleaming in the dark. In one firm tug, the shears were freed from the floor and lifted. The wielder opened them wide, the metallic screech heard even over the constant thrum of pouring rain outside. The redhead took a small step back, her wavering eyes still fixated on the blue-haired man.

When he began to shamble towards her, she ran.

Down the hallways she bolted, crying out for help as loud as she could. One look behind her showed the shears wielder pursuing her, a terrible limp in his stride. Gwen stumbled and tripped several times in her frenzied attempt to outrun the man chasing her. When she glanced behind once more, however, it appeared as if the redhead had lost him.

Adrenaline still flowing through her, Gwen eventually slowed to a brisk trot, keeping her eyes to the corridor behind her. Countless questions raced through her mind, none of them she could answer herself. Instead, she poured her focus into getting away from the blue-haired man, and find some help.

Feeling that she was safe for the time being, Gwen stopped to catch her breath and composure. She kept a lookout for any sign of someone approaching, hoping the first person that comes along is one she knew and trusted.

As the redhead began to calm, a faint rasping sound was heard. She listened intently to the noise, fearfully backing away in an attempt to escape from it. However, the more she moved, the louder the strange sound became. From what she could see, Gwen was alone in the dark hallway. The rasping said otherwise.

The preteen's heart skipped a beat when she backed into something, the texture soft yet also firm. Her eyes hesitantly peered up and over her shoulder, seeing none other than the man who had been chasing her, his breathing deep and raspy. From this position, Gwen saw that her height only reach to his chest, allowing her to see just how much this stranger towered over her.

Gwen immediately stepped away from him, to which he reacted by swinging his closed shears, attempting to strike her. But she saw the impending hit and grabbed the blades before they made contact, her small arms trembling from the strain. The lanky man gave another toothy grin, knowing he could overpower her easily.

Thinking quickly, the redhead kicked the leg that she remembered he limped on. As she had hoped, the weakened limb gave out instantly and he fell. The pained shout he made momentarily caught Gwen off guard, but she used the opportunity to bolt down the hallway she had just come from.

"Help! _Somebody!_" cried the redhead as she jerked on a few doorknobs, finding them locked. She looked to the downed man, seeing him stagger to his feet. After calmly retrieving his shears, he started to approach yet again. This spurred Gwen into quickening her escape, hoping to find a room to hide in.

Eventually she came across an unlocked door and scrambled to get inside, proceeding in locking the door herself. Gwen then took a few steps back, straining her ears to hear her pursuer outside the relative protection of the room.

She heard what sounded like a low, mirthless chuckle mixed with a dry cough, going along with the rhythmic thumping of his particular footsteps. _Thump, thump._ A pause. _Thump, thump._ Gwen shuddered at the familiarity of the sound.

"What's the matter? Don't you wanna plaaay?" His voice was firm, composed, yet it held a hint of childlike playfulness as well. The locked knob jiggled several times, and Gwen ceased all movement, hoping that he would move on. It was wishful thinking, but Gwen would take any kind of hope at that point.

The jiggling stopped suddenly, followed by an eerie silence. The terrified redhead released the breath she had not realized she held, wondering if the blue-haired man had finally left. She wanted to believe that, but was not fully convinced, since she had not heard his recognizable shambling.

As quietly as she could, Gwen moved to the door. She was cautious in her steps, not wanting to spur any would-be attack. When she was close enough, Gwen, her heart pounding rapidly, leaned onto the old wood and listened. There was a muffled shuffle, and then…

The tips of two large blades stabbed through the door, only inches from Gwen's head. Startled and horrified at the close call, the redhead screamed and darted back. She watched helplessly as the door splintered and split from the tampered steel blades, the wielder stabbing it repeatedly until an opening formed.

Having access to the inside, the frightening man removed his shears, only to replace them with a thin arm. His hand found the knob and pulled it, successfully unlocking it. The tattered door slowly swung open, revealing the relentless stranger.

In the dim light of the room, Gwen could see her pursuer much better than before.

A dark blue button-up shirt, stained with an unknown substance, clung to his torso, some of the buttons missing or undone. Lighter colored blue jeans made up the lower half of his ragged attire, ripped at the knees and ends. They too were stained with what appeared to be dirt and blood. Simple brown dress shoes were worn on his feet.

His hair was indeed an icy blue color; Gwen had thought it had been the lack of any light fooling her eyes. It was unkempt, and spiked in many different directions. But nothing could distract from the man's peculiar eyes, the lack of any visible pupils making them solid white. Coupled with the giant sharpened shears he wielded, he was a frightening sight to behold.

With her only path of escape blocked, Gwen fearfully backed away from him. But the man only limped closer, steadily sealing the gap between them. In his perceived triumph, a small grin reappeared in his features.

"Poor li'le one, all scared and alone," the stranger began, his accent thick and apparent. After snapping the blades open and closed, his haunting voice was heard again. "Don't worry, I'll keep you company…"

The blue-haired man inched closer, and Gwen stumbled back in response. Her heart sank when she felt the wall behind her, dread covering her like a thick blanket. Her mind raced with panic, struggling to come up with a way out of the predicament she was in.

Gwen dodged aside when the limping man jabbed his weapon toward her, knocking over several tin cans of insecticide. The metallic clatter took his attention off of the redhead long enough for her to grab one; she threw it down with as much strength as she could muster.

The can, rusted and weak, broke with relative ease, the fumes once contained inside escaping from it. It quickly filled the room, choking and blinding the two. Overcome by the toxic substance, the shears wielder dropped his weapon and covered his face. Gwen used this opening to zip by him and run out of the room.

But she did not stop there. The redhead ran as far as her legs would take her, never once daring to look over her shoulder. She eventually found herself in the main lobby, not a soul to be seen. At that point, however, she did not really care.

Gwen bolted for the front doors, planning to find help in town. But when she went to open them, she found them unfortunately locked. Not expecting such a thing, Gwen checked the locks to disarm them, only to discover that they were all unlatched.

"W-what the-?" The preteen pulled on the handle again, getting the same result as before. After a brief moment of thought, she took a few steps back. _Is it locked from the outside? But why…?_

With the front doors inoperable, Gwen had no choice but to backtrack and look for another way out, heading toward the stairs she had just ran down. If she was lucky, she may run into a friendly face on the way. When the image of the scary blue-haired man popped into her mind, the redhead froze, appearing as if she would start crying at any minute.

"Where is everybody?" Her shaky voice came out as barely a whisper, followed by a single sob. It took all the remaining bravery she had to make her way back up those same stairs, her pace slow and silent. When she arrived at the top, Gwen listened intently for any sound in the otherwise eerily quiet mansion. Her ears picked up nothing, but she still exercised great caution.

Upon peering at the second floor for anyone, Gwen found the halls empty. It was as if the man who had chased her had vanished from existence. Despite the coast being clear down the corridor she had just used, the redhead went to a different one. She moved as quietly as she could, just as she had done coming up the stairs.

Using the numerous pieces of furniture as cover, Gwen was able to make it to the next series of hallways undetected. Now that she knew a possible killer was loose in the mansion, paranoia ran rampant in her mind.

After giving one final look over her surroundings, Gwen stood from her hiding spot and bolted around a corner, hoping to find cover quickly. However, her mad dash ended abruptly when she collided into someone. The force sent the redhead to the floor, looking at the person she ran into with widened eyes.

"Gwen! What the hell are you doing?!" Paula yelled, then scanned the hallway ahead with angered dark eyes. "Who are you with? How did you know I was…"

"Paula, thank goodness it's you!" interrupted the redhead, quickly springing up and looking all around as well. Her actions left the older teen confused, but did not get a chance to say anything before Gwen spoke again. "We have to get out of here. There's a psycho loose in the house!"

"Feh. I'm not falling for your bullshit, Gwen. Take your pranks elsewhere," Paula replied, clearly irate with the younger girl. She had begun walking forward, but stopped when a sudden thought crossed her mind. The dark-haired teen whirled around with the deepest glare on her face. "Tell anyone and you'll regret it, shrimp."

"I'm coming with you."

Gwen's words shocked Paula, though any trace of it in her expression vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Seeing the serious stare that the redhead sported swayed Paula to cave in and allow Gwen to tag along, though not without a stern warning to keep out of her way. Gwen did not mind the threat much; she was just happy that she was not alone anymore.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

"So what were you doing out here, anyway?" Gwen questioned in a whisper, she and the teenager she was accompanying moving along cautiously down the long hall. They had not found anyone since their journey together began. While the bucktoothed teen greatly preferred it that way, the redhead was at least wanting to find the other orphans.

"As if you care," snapped Paula, keeping her eyes ahead of them. Gwen glared, but bit down a snide remark that came to her mind. Instead, she decided to persuade.

"If I didn't care, I wouldn't have asked."

"What are _you _doing out here, then?" Paula cringed at the loudness in her voice and ceased walking for a moment, Gwen following suit. They listened for any indication that they had been discovered; all that was heard was the constant tapping of the rain falling outside. Feeling secure again, the two ventured on.

"Well, I went looking for Eve. She's been gone a long time," Gwen explained, taking a quick look behind her before continuing. "I heard a scream, and then a man with huge shears started chasing me."

"Ha. Sure."

"It's true!"

"Shh! You'll give us away," Paula hissed, jutting her arm out to silence the annoyed redhead. After a few more steps, Gwen spoke up once more, her tone a bit lower than before.

"So? Why are you out and about?" she prodded, earning a long, frustrated sigh from the other. The two stopped and took cover by an antique wooden end table, giving the area an inspection before Paula decided to answer.

"I was going to run away with Lisa and Maria, but I guess they chickened out on me," she stated with narrowed eyes, her tone revealing a little bitterness in it. Gwen questioned where they would have gone, to which the older teen replied, "to town, or something. Anywhere but here."

The redhead nodded slowly in response, her saddened eyes looking to her feet. With their discussion apparently over, Paula and Gwen moved from their hiding spot and pushed on.

"And what are you going to do once I get out of here? Gonna meet up with the other losers?" Paula taunted lowly, still holding a bitter weight for her friends. Gwen, for the most part, paid little mind to the dark-haired teen's insult to her companions, feeling that it was not the time to argue. Instead, the preteen replied to the inquiry in a voice just as quiet.

"I'm going to town, too, and get some help. Murdoc and that creepy guy need to be arrested or something. I don't need to explain it, as you know."

For quite a while, Paula did not respond. Gwen was unsure whether it was because she was distracted, or just mulling over her words. Regardless, the older teenager spoke after stopping in front of a door that would lead them into another part of the mansion, farther away from the front foyer.

"I agree that something needs to be done with Murdoc. Those bruises you have speak for themselves," she stated, looking down at Gwen with seemingly angry eyes. She then faced the door before them, its elegant design prominent even in the poor lighting. "You'll need help getting there, since you've never even been in town to begin with."

"You mean…?"

"Yeah. A temporary truce. Don't get used to it." With that, Paula grabbed the knob and turned it, opening the door carefully and peering into the hall behind it. When she deemed the coast clear, the dark-haired teen walked forward, leaving a pouting Gwen behind.

"Wouldn't want to anyway…" she muttered before following the only other person around, opting to not lose sight of her. If she was not careful, she most certainly could in the steadily increasing darkness.

The hallway stretched several rooms' length ahead of them, stopping at a large window before turning abruptly to the right. As the two drew closer to the end of the corridor, they saw that it was actually a set of doors leading to a fairly large balcony. Looking out through the clean glass, they spotted a tall wooden vine rack set against the building. If one were to carefully climb their way down on it, they would make it to the ground level two stories below.

"That's our ticket out of here," said Paula with an enthusiastic chortle, removing herself from the glass. Gwen remained where she was, still eying the rack with a small hint of uncertainty. A firm tug at the door brought her out of her thoughts, her dark gray pools snapping down to the handles, which Paula was grabbing. She released it with a frustrated grunt. "Damn it! Fucking locked."

"Where do we go now? That hallway leads to a dead end," informed the frowning redhead, pointing to the rest of the hallway that ended with a simple window. Paula gave it a brief glance before placing her attention back to the handles, looking angered.

"This is too good a chance to just walk away from," the older teenager stated, kneeling as she took out a small bobby pin from her pocket. With a curious redhead watching, Paula began to pick the old lock in an attempt to open them. Her eyes fixed on her task, she spoke again. "Just watch and learn."

The lock must have been closed firmly or jammed, as Paula appeared to be having trouble effectively picking it. Despite such, she patiently continued, determined to get it unlocked. Gwen, her attention span waning, anxiously stood by, silently urging her to hurry.

The rain had appeared to let up by this time, decreasing to a gentle sprinkle. It was the perfect opportunity to get out of the mansion and escape, since they would be going without any sort of protection. They could only imagine how soggy the ground would be.

Gwen gave a long, silent sigh before leaning against the wall, facing the hallway she and Paula had traveled down. When she settled into position, her ears began to pick up a frighteningly familiar sound. On alert, the redhead removed herself from the wall and listened harder. She stared, unblinking, into the darkness that clung to the long corridor. Eventually, a figure began to emerge from the dark that concealed them.

Closer, and closer the figure shambled towards them, the dim light revealing him to be the man with the giant shears. He moved in firm, meaningful steps, dragging behind his metal weapon. Clearly alarmed at seeing him, Gwen stumbled to Paula, shaking her arm vigorously.

"Paula! Paula, we have to run!"

The older teen went to snap at Gwen, but the words caught in her throat when spotting the blue-haired man approaching them. One look at the blades sent the immediate response of _run_ to her mind, which she and Gwen did.

Down the fairly short corridor they fled, seeing the impending dead end quickly coming up on them. On the right side of the hallway near the window was a cupboard much too small for any average teenager to fit in; but Gwen's small frame could easily hide away inside. Her heart racing and her mind reeling just as fast, Paula opened the doors and forcefully shoved the redhead inside.

"Get in there, and don't move!" Just as the dark-haired teenager kicked the doors closed, the shears wielder steadily rounded the corner, his white eyes appearing to gleam in the dark. With nowhere to go, Paula backed away until she stood only several feet away from the tall window.

No matter how hard they tried, they could not get themselves to fall asleep. They all had a strange feeling that they could not shake, and it left them all restless and wary.

Elsie was the first to exit her solitary room, wandering the halls until she came upon the one running beside the courtyard, walking as if she were being guided there. She went to one of the artistically crafted windows, but saw nothing of interest outside.

Imogene and Karen came in next, visibly surprised to find Elsie there as well. They, too, were drawn to that particular hallway, and joined the colored teenager in peering out of the window.

Maria and Lisa arrived last, but hardly reacted to the other girls' presence. They looked out of a window fairly far from the others, as if wondering what the fuss was about. What they all saw next would surely haunt them for the rest of their uncounted days.

From two stories up, a window was shattered seemingly out of the blue. Seconds later, the five teenagers spotted a body covered in dark red blood falling from the opening created. A collective scream filled the area, all eyes wide as the body landed painfully onto the metal fence lining the courtyard. Three black rods rose from Paula Cracker's elevated torso, the fatal wound plain for all to see.

The dark-haired teen twitched and writhed for nearly a minute before she moved no more.


	19. Chapter 19

Just another update for ya!

Don't own Gorillaz. Never have, never will.

**Chapter Nineteen**

She lie motionless on the small couch, hurting, her mind racing yet stuck on repeat. She could not focus on anything other than the pain and what had happened. Evelyn was frozen in place, tears silently streaming down her face.

Only a few feet away, Murdoc calmly buttoned his shirt back up, appearing nonchalant. His pants were still unfastened, his clothes tussled and wrinkled. A fresh scratch mark stretched across his right cheek, red but not bleeding, a testament to the struggle that had ensued.

"You sure know how to please a man, as I had expected," Murdoc stated with a low chuckle, looking over at the crying teenager as he buttoned his pants. Seeing the tears did little to erase his cold, uncaring smirk. "I don't see why you're crying. I made you a woman. Isn't that every girl's dream?"

Evelyn glowered at him for a moment as her rapist retrieved his belt, but sharply turned away. She could no longer stand to even lay eyes upon him, the man who was her teacher, her caretaker. She had held him in such high regards before, but now she saw the man for what he truly was: a monster, a heartless being that cared for no one but himself. His betrayal hurt more than the assault he had inflicted upon her.

"You're disgusting. Insane!" Evelyn cried out, attempting to sit up. When she did so, a sharp pain jolted from her lower abdomen throughout her body. She doubled over from the crippling agony, biting back a shout.

Murdoc only smirked once more at the teen's outburst, making his way over to her with long, confident strides. Understandably, Evelyn cringed and moved away as best as she could, her heart racing as the cruel man stood before her once again.

"You say that as if I don't already know," he said, leering down at her with his hands on his hips, still keeping his taunting smirk. Murdoc then forcefully grabbed her face and made Evelyn look at him; he leaned in a bit, his tongue flicking across his lips. "You bring out the best of me, it seems."

The cruel man shoved Evelyn back on the couch, and went to make a move. However, the sound of screaming stopped any further action, his smirk vanishing as he looked over to the door. Grumbling, Murdoc made his way over to the only exit, buckling his belt and tucking his shirt in.

"W-what are you going to do?" Evelyn dared to question, managing to hold onto her angered expression as she slowly sat back up. In turn, Murdoc did not respond to her inquiry, instead removing a pistol from his back pocket. The sight of the firearm alarmed the hurting teenager, her eyes wide as Murdoc calmly loaded the handgun. "No! No, don't!"

"I'll be seeing you later, _Evelyn_." The way he said her name sent cold chills down her spine, leaving a numbing feeling behind. His voice was the same tone he had used before he released this nightmare upon her and the girls, the phony kindness that had fooled her, and possibly countless others.

A triumphant grin on his face, Murdoc passed through the open doorway and closed it again. Unable to move much, Evelyn could only weep, her spirit shattered.

The scene that had unfolded before her replayed in her mind over and over again, no matter how much she did not want it to. The horrified look on Paula's face, the sight of blood spurting on the shears and their wielder, and the laughter the blue-haired man emitted were only a fraction of what Gwen was forced to relive. She remained completely still in the small cupboard, watching the killer through a tiny opening in the doors.

He still stood before the now broken window, his line of sight on the unmoving body below. His broken chortle was slowly fading away, as if he were distracted by something. Gwen used this opportunity to sneak out of her hiding spot, relieved to see that he was too distracted to notice her.

_Just a little farther… _she told herself as she quietly stepped onto the floor, her eyes locked on the blue-haired man. As soon as her foot touched the carpet, his laughter came to a sudden stop. Though his back was still facing her, the redhead froze as if she had been spotted, unsure if she had or not.

Several tense seconds passed, though to Gwen it felt like hours. Everything was silent other than the light sprinkle of rain falling outside, and the curtains flapping in the wind. None of them moved, like they had been frozen in time.

"Running is pointless." The sudden sound of the killer's cold voice startled Gwen, causing her to stumble and fall. Undeterred, he calmly turned to face her, his features blank. "Eventually, you'll get caught. Everyone does."

More than a little disturbed by his words, Gwen scrambled to her feet and bolted down the hallway, heading for the door just around the corner. The eerie sound of the man's laughter echoed through the halls.

He followed the collective noise of panic and shouting, his arms tucked behind him as he casually walked. His features were void, empty, completely blank. The girls were just beyond the corridor he was traveling, disturbed by who knows what. Murdoc felt his anger and annoyance reach the tipping point; he would no longer hold back.

Opening the door leading to the next hallway, the uncaring man at last arrived to the adopted girls' location. They were all gathered around one of the large windows showcasing the courtyard just outside, most of them crying, all of them chattering all at once. It did not take them long to notice his presence, and the five of them instantly beckoned for him.

"Mr. Murdoc!" they called in almost perfect unison, eagerly urging him over to them. The dark-haired man obliged, moving calmly forward with a vague look of curiosity and perplexity.

"Why are you girls out of bed? Have you any idea wot time it is?" he questioned, his words fazing none of the teens. They proceeded in directing Murdoc's attention outside, shouting Paula's name and sobbing.

"She fell out of the window! We all saw it!" cried Lisa, her eyeliner streaming down her face as the tears mixed with it. She did not bother to wipe it away.

"And now… she's… She's gone," Maria added, she too weeping for her lost friend. Her head was down, her eyes squeezed shut, but it did not stop the crystal clear teardrops that fell from them.

"It looked like she had been pushed. She came out backwards!" Imogene spoke next. While not crying, she held a look of fear and concern that mirrored her adopted sisters'. She took a step toward Murdoc, who had his back facing them as he stared at the corpse impaled on the fence. "We should call the police. The murderer must still be here!"

For several minutes or so, the presumed caretaker only silently gazed at the horrible scene outside, his expression unreadable. Not knowing what to make of the adult's lack of a response, the girls lightly conversed amongst themselves, the panic still present in their voices.

Elsie and Karen, though terrified at what they had seen, were the only ones that remained silent, their eyes on Murdoc. They waited for him to speak, to address what was going to be done, just as he had when Rosie disappeared. Their keen eyes caught sight of the caretaker's shoulders trembling slightly, which was soon noticed by the other girls as well.

"Mr. Niccals…?" Imogene, frowning, called softly, followed by a sudden hush from the others. They silently waited for Murdoc to respond, their features reflecting sadness.

Then, a low rumbling sound was heard from the dark-haired man, the trembling in his shoulders now overtly visible. As the girls listened further, the sound he was emitting was laughter. Shocked at this revelation, the teens looked to each other for answers. When Murdoc's out-of-place laughing reached its highest point, all widened, fearful eyes were on him.

"Mr. Niccals… why are you laughing?" Imogene questioned, unsure of Murdoc's behavior. The man's outburst began to fade into a series of chuckles, and the caretaker finally turned to face them. The grin across his face spread from ear to ear, though his eyes held no mirth in them, just a cold, steely gaze that shook the very souls of the teenagers.

"Oh, I'm just laughing because there is no one to help you… Or _save_ you, I should say," Murdoc replied, relishing in the looks of horror that appeared on the five girls' faces. Another chuckle escaped him, and he folded his arms across his chest. "How gullible you lot are, thinking I was a kind caretaker awaiting your every beck and call. No… I hold no pity for you whatsoever."

"What the hell are you talkin' about?! A girl is _dead _out there!" cried Imogene, bravely stepping forward. When Murdoc did not respond, she continued. "Your lack of empathy is sickening! This is no laughing matter!"

A sudden, swift slap was administered to the American, the caretaker's hand striking her face. The force sent her stumbling back, but her fall was stopped by the girls standing behind her. One look at the handgun pointed at them ceased all future opposition, the smirk gone from Murdoc's face.

"You're right. It isn't," he stated, moving closer to the group; they cringed away in fear. Their eyes focused on the loaded pistol pointing at them, but they heard every word he said. "Did you honestly believe this place would be paradise? That you'll live happily ever after here? How laughable. You filthy little cretins don't deserve to be loved, and you never will."

The cruel man's words hurt more to some than others, but the impact retained its brutality. The teens' expressions shifted to hurt almost instantly, unable to fathom the sudden change in Murdoc's attitude. What had started out as a dream come true had turned into a nightmare that they all wanted to escape. Several had inwardly kicked themselves for not realizing it before, which had regrettably taken two dead girls to catch on.

_I was right about this place. The Lord is never wrong… _Elsie told herself with a frown, placing her almond eyes to her feet. _If only I had known for sure. Maybe…_

"Someone! Help! It's Paula! She's-!" Gwen, who had come running through an open door, stopped abruptly when she got a good look at the situation she unwittingly waltzed into. Murdoc turned to face her, narrowing his eyes to mere slits in response. When the redhead went to flee, he quickly pointed his gun at her.

"And look who it is: the ringleader of this fun little rebel group." A twisted grin slowly reappearing on his face, the dark-haired man made his way over to her. Fearing for her life, Gwen remained rooted in place, her legs trembling slightly. As she thought over it, however, she knew she was in danger either way.

She gave a weak cry when Murdoc grabbed a handful of cherry red hair and pulled her closer, feeling the barrel of the gun press against her temple. "'Murdoc's weird, I don't like him, I don't know where the notes came from'," he said, "tell me, Gwen. How did you figure me out so quickly?"

"Stop it, Murdoc…" Imogene hissed, earning her the dangerous end of the gun aimed at her. The caretaker's eyes were wide and menacing, the pupils mere pinpoints.

"Shut the fuck up, you bitch!" He went to hit the brunette with his gun, but stopped when Karen stepped forward, protecting her friend. A stern, focused glare was on her face, her eyes locked firmly on the aggressor. Murdoc grunted, annoyed at the opposition he was getting. He then gave one last firm tug on the redhead he held captive and spoke again. "Get in a line, all of you. We're taking a little trip to the basement."

"S-screw you! I ain't goin' nowhere!" Gwen shouted, squeezing her eyes shut. Her outburst was a brave move, but in reality she was scared beyond her wits. This fear only increased when she felt the gun jab into her cheek; the preteen dared to open her eyes slightly, looking at the emotionless face of Murdoc.

"I _dare _you to say that again. Go on," he challenged, seemingly patient and calm as he waited for a response. He did not get one. Seeing this, Murdoc huffed in mild amusement and confirmation. "I didn't think so. Get in line, you maggot."

With a violent shove, Gwen was released from the cruel man's hold. She fell to the floor from the momentum, the carpet scraping against her exposed left elbow and knees. Helped to her feet by Karen, Gwen shot a glare over at Murdoc, who forced them forward with the wave of his weapon.

Having no other choice, the six girls walked fearfully down the dimly-lit halls, directed by Murdoc who followed behind. It was as if they were prisoners marching toward their gruesome execution, condemned and dehumanized. In the back of their minds, they had the sinking feeling that it was exactly the case.


	20. Chapter 20

Here's another update for you! What do you all think of it so far? I'd like to know how you all are taking it. XD

Anyway, Gorillaz aren't mine, as I've said many times.

**Chapter Twenty**

Nothing was said as the seven mansion residents made their way down the winding halls, the tension increasing with every step. The girls had no way of knowing what Murdoc planned to do with them once they got to the basement; countless possibilities ran through their minds, none of them good for their wellbeing.

With each turn into another corridor, it was as if the hallway itself was swallowing them whole. The basement, they felt, would be the hungry belly of the beast that is the mansion, and they were the main course.

Gwen, the last girl in line, chances a secretive glance over her shoulder at Murdoc walking just behind her. He appeared calm, distant, as if he was separating himself from the situation. This peculiar attitude baffled Gwen, but she chose to give a single glare and faced forward again. There would be no gain in confronting him now.

"Stop," commanded the caretaker, his voice level and lowered. The teenagers complied with his order, looking at him nervously as he moved to the front of the line. Gwen narrowed her eyes a bit, contemplating. The expression vanished when Murdoc spoke again. "This will be your new permanent residence. I hope you'll enjoy it."

The cold chuckle that he gave chilled the girls to the bone, sensing the malice in his words. Before them stood a plain solid steel door, devoid of the grandeur and elegance like the rest of the house. Beyond this door was their potential prison, where their cruel caretaker will keep them for an unknown amount of time.

With the turn of the handle, the heavy door was opened, revealing a black abyss behind it. There was no knob on the inside of the door, the girls noticed, which would leave them trapped when Murdoc would force them inside. They very thought made them tremble in fear and hopelessness.

"Where's Eve?" Gwen demanded, her stance firm and, if she were a bit taller, almost formidable. Her question hardly fazed Murdoc, challenging her outburst with a mocking grin before replying.

"You won't be seeing her… not anymore."

Shock rippled through the small group of girls, their minds immediately assuming the worst. All eyes snapped to the redhead, who glared back at Murdoc with surprise in her expression as well. She managed to retain her former posture even in the midst of her doubt, not wanting to back down so easily. She did not know if the uncaring man noticed or not, so she decided to keep silent.

"There is no need to worry, you noisy little sparkplug. I will take _good _care of her," Murdoc added as he rested his arm on the door handle, his other hand on his hip. The mirthless grin never left his face. "As for all of _you_, however, I cannot say the same."

"This is ridiculous! You can't keep us here!" Maria bravely cried out, having gained a bit of courage after some time. She was relieved when the others stood by her and agreed. In turn, Murdoc's gaze landed on her, his smirk fading slightly.

"Oh, but I can, and I will. You have no authority here. You never did." Removing himself from beside the door, his stern outlook returned as he took a few steps toward the teenagers. He stiffly jabbed a finger to the blackness that was the basement, his arm hanging motionless where it stopped. "Now get in there."

"I-I can't. I won't!" Imogene, the first in line, protested, taking several steps back from the door. Growing impatient with the teens, Murdoc stormed over and gave Imogene a firm push. The American lost her footing on the stairs and tumbled down, the dark room unable to cloak her shouts as she fell.

Worried and afraid for her friend's condition, Karen wordlessly went after her, her petite form disappearing in the dark. Not wanting to anger Murdoc further, Elsie, Maria, and Lisa willingly walked in next. It was difficult for them to navigate in zero visibility, but they did not object.

Gwen followed behind Lisa for a few steps, but the moment Murdoc turned his head to watch the others walk in, she bolted down the way they had just came. Caught off guard, the cruel man angrily slammed the door and chased after her, swearing almost every step of the way.

The redhead ran as fast as her short legs could carry her, calling for Evelyn at the top of her lungs. But in her panicked and frenzied escape, she regrettably came upon a hallway that led to a dead end. There was no time for her to get out before Murdoc caught up with her.

"I applaud your efforts to avoid your fate," commended the caretaker, his handgun at his side as he approached the cornered preteen. When Murdoc came close, Gwen would step back, but she eventually felt the wall behind her. She could only watch as her tormentor now stood about a foot away. His mismatched eyes seemed to gleam in the dimmed lighting, revealing his frustration with her. "But just like the others, you have failed."

With one fell swing of his arm, the pistol in his hand struck Gwen directly on her face. The force of the blow sent her falling to the side, the intense pain in her left eye socket immediate. She covered it tenderly with her hands, crying out as the sheer agony immobilized her.

Feeling no remorse for his actions, Murdoc grabbed the redhead by the forearm, his hand easily wrapping completely around it, and roughly hoisted her to her feet. Gwen tried prying his fingers off of her, but could not escape his iron grip.

"That's what you get, you worthless brat. Now come on."

Unable to get away, Gwen was practically dragged along by the cruel man; any ounce of resistance was quickly squashed by a fierce slap or a painful shove into the wall. Eventually, they reached the closed basement door once again.

Putting away his pistol, Murdoc opened the door with his free hand. The collective sound of panicked chatter could be heard from inside for a moment, but it faded to silence once light from the hallway poured in. With a grimace, the caretaker looked down at an unusually passive Gwen, who stared at the basement opening with her undamaged eye. The area around her left eye was already forming a massive bruise, forcing it closed.

"You're all out of spunk, I see," Murdoc noted with amusement, though his face remained void of expression. When Gwen did not respond, a small grin slowly appeared in his features. "Oh well. It was fun while it lasted."

Murdoc, dragging the redhead along, took a few steps inside, then fished out a lighter from his pocket. Flicking it on, he used the tiny flame to ignite two red candles hung on both sides of the door.

The candles now lit, the two fires weakly illuminated the otherwise dark basement, revealing the frightened faces of the five teenagers that had been forced inside. One look at the defeated expression on Gwen's face was enough to sink all of their hopes of escape.

"I've recovered our lost sheep," informed the cruel man, his grip on Gwen's arm tightening as he spoke. The redhead only winced, not even bothering to look up from her feet. "And now you're all together again. Such a lovely family you lot are."

Murdoc, standing firmly at the top of the short flight of stairs, forcefully swung Gwen around and released her; the injured preteen could not help but stumble and fall to the cold concrete floor below, using her arms to brace herself. She felt someone help her sit up, quickly realizing that it was Elsie who had done so.

If she were alone, the broken redhead would have been content in just laying where she was. Murdoc's callous words replayed themselves nonstop in her head, sapping her will to keep fighting. Her open eye, wide and glazed over, stared off to nothing, while the others watched with anger as the cruel man began to back out of the basement.

"I must be going. These candles here will give you some much-needed light. Ciao." Once he was out, Murdoc slammed the door with unnecessary force, trapping the girls inside. With a single click of the lock, they were cut off from the rest of the mansion, and the few who resided in it.

Murdoc pocketed the brass key and calmly strolled back the way he and the girls had came, whistling happily to himself. Unbeknownst to the dark-haired terror of the household, Russel had been watching the tail end of the scene in absolute horror.

The gardener had hidden down a crossing hallway, on the side of a cupboard near the entrance. When he felt it was safe to come out, he lumbered over to the locked basement door. Pressing his ear against it, Russel could hear the muffled voices of the teenagers trapped inside. Standing straight again, he looked back the way Murdoc had left, a frown on his face.

_This isn't right. Why would he put them in here? _he asked himself, turning and cautiously making his way down the corridor. The gardener had been in his room not too long after watching the news with Gwen, the persistent rain keeping him from his duties. As some time passed, an eerie quiet seemed to have fallen over the manor, which he had quickly noticed and came to investigate.

That was when he happened upon the scene he had just witnessed.

After some time, Russel came upon the hallway running beside the courtyard, inevitably spotting the corpse of Paula still impaled on the fence. Understandably stunned and appalled, the burly gardener's first reaction was to run out and inspect the scene.

But then he thought back to Murdoc when he locked the girls up, and went still for a moment. His peculiar behavior alerted Russel to notions of foul play, but could not be sure unless he could weasel some information from the Tusspot family friend.

_Jus' play it slow, Russ. Play it slow. _Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, the colored man reluctantly moved on. He did not leave without uttering a passing blessing for the life that was ended so abruptly, however.

Even with the wall lamps turned on, there was an almost tangent darkness that stubbornly clung to the walls, refusing to be vanquished. It was as if it were waiting to engulf the light in its inky depths the instant it had a chance to. The farther Russel traveled, the more apparent this became.

He soon came upon one of the many foyers in the mansion, which he recognized as the one closest to the old, unused pool. Looking around for anyone inside, the gardener cautiously stepped out into the open.

Unlike the halls, this foyer was almost completely dark, save a single lamp on an end table close to a set of couches and chairs. The single light cast menacing shadows on the walls, startling Russel at a few of them. However, when he began to hear a strange noise, his heart began pounding in his chest.

_It could be Murdoc. But… Did he even come this way? _the gardener asked himself, unable to come to a decision right away. When the sounds drew closer, Russel scrambled for a place to hide. He eventually found one by concealing himself inside a relatively empty broom closet, keeping as silent as he could while he waited for the cause of the noises to show itself.

Fear and anticipation mixed and mingled with every passing second, the sounds now easily identified as uneven footsteps. Russel was able to see the room through the thick grating built into the door, allowing easy viewing from the inside, little visibility from the outside looking in. Though these grates, the gardener saw a door to one of the hallways that led to the foyer burst open.

Thanks to the dim light from the lamp, Russel was able to make out several details of the person who had walked in. His tall, lanky frame was hardly intimidating, but what his body lacked in a fear-inducing appearance, the large pair of shears he dragged along made up for it.

He was holding something in his other hand; looking closer, Russel saw that it was a stuffed animal. He noticed that the blue-haired man handled the toy with unusual care, as if it were a priceless relic that should be forever cherished. Unaware of the gardener's presence, the shears wielder gave a short, dry chuckle and held the fox doll so that it appeared to be looking at him.

"Did you get a look at 'er face, Mr. Fox? The way she looked when she fell on those rods?" asked the tall man, his questions apparently directed at the toy in his hand. Walking over to the couch nearby, he propped his shears against it and sat down. The fox doll was now tenderly held with both hands, resting on his lap.

"Priceless, priceless! The bucktoothed witch deserved it, she did!" The stuffed toy's movement was guided by his bony fingers as he provided its speaking voice, his pitch higher and more ragged. "Who will die next? I wanna see some heads roll!"

"Yes… who _should _go next? In the end, though, I don't think it really matters." The blue-haired man looked ahead of him for a brief moment, as if in thought. He then stood from his seat and began pacing around, clearly troubled by something.

"Oh, but it _does_. You hate some more than others, yes?"

The killer stood still for several minutes, his expression blank, staring at nothing. Then, suddenly, his face twisted in anger at some revelation that had not occurred to him moments before. He grabbed hold of the handle of his weapon and started pacing again, his gait tense as he moved about the foyer.

"I do. I DO hate some of them more," said the irate blue-haired man, coming to an abrupt stop. Frowning, he brought the toy up to him once again. "They're all scared, hidin' from me. I'll find 'em. I'll find 'em all!"

"How about we look for Evelyn? She and Mama are _really _close."

The killer's expression shifted to rage again, curling his lip a bit in a fierce snarl. He lowered the toy in his hand as he looked down, his icy blue bangs hiding his face. His shoulders visibly trembled, the hand clasping his shears tightening its grip. In a low, wispy tone, the strange man spoke.

"Evelyn…"

Overcome by his anger, the blue-haired killer lifted his weapon and, with a shout, brought them down again. The closed blades were partially embedded into the wooden floor, going in about an inch.

The unpredicted display of aggression startled the still-hiding Russel, who gave a surprised gasp in response. It was hardly loud, but the tall man ceased all movement immediately after, as if he were listening. Russel kept as still as the dangerous murderer just outside, hearing his heart pumping quickly.

"Ahh, looks like we have a visitor, Mr. Fox," announced the blue-haired man, slowly turning around with a haunting grin. His solid white eyes locked onto the closet, he carefully slid the doll into his back pocket. With his other hand free, the killer used it to grasp the other handle of his shears.

He opened the blades wide, a screeching metallic sound reverberating throughout the large room. It was as if the shears themselves were hungry for blood. The strange man lifted his weapon of choice, taking a few steps toward Russel's hiding spot.

All the gardener could do was watch as his possible murderer approached, bracing himself for the worst.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty One**

Cornered and trapped in the very place he had used as a hiding spot, Russel pressed his back against the wall, wide-eyed and terrified of the tall man approaching him. Every breath came out short, uneven, unable to take in much air. With each staggering step toward the closet he was in, the hollow pain of fear in his chest increased tenfold.

"Would our guest like to play another game with me? My favorite is Tag," the blue-haired killer questioned Russel, still keeping his grin and his shears raised. The gardener remained silent at the eerie inquiry, feeling the sweat dripping down his round face. Despite not being answered, the taller of the two continued. "I'll give you a ten second head start."

As the shears wielder went to open the closet door, he stopped, his hand hovering over the knob. His entire form fell still for a few fleeting moments before he turned his head to the side, as if listening for something. After a few more seconds, he gave a small glare, his thick brows furrowing. He then recoiled his hand and backed away, grabbing hold of his shears again.

"We'll play again another time," stated the childlike killer, his cold, unfeeling voice showing just a hint of disappointment in it. With nothing more to say, he turned, the fox doll visible in his back pocket, and disappeared through the same door he had walked in through.

Stunned, Russel stood stone still in the broom closet, asking himself what had just happened, and what caused the blue-haired man to leave him unscathed. At the same time, he thanked the lucky stars that he had escaped for now.

Ever so carefully and cautiously, Russel slowly opened the closet door. It took quite a lot of self coaxing, but eventually the gardener eased out of his hiding spot. Once out, he wasted no time in exiting the foyer through the door he had used to come in. He did not care where he was going, as long as it was as far away from the man who he had just seen.

_Whoever he is, he's definitely some kind of basket case. How the hell did he even get in this place? And who is he? _Much too wrapped up in his frenzied and reeling thoughts, Russel did not see Murdoc as he rounded a corner, before bumping into him. With the obvious size difference, the more slender man was knocked to the floor, much to his annoyance.

"Bloody hell! Watch where you're going, Russel!" shouted the girls' caretaker, quickly getting to his feet with an apologetic hand from the gardener. After brushing himself off, Murdoc angrily continued. "Wot's the rush, anyway?"

Russel's first reaction was to tell him everything he had seen, but stopped himself before he did. Rethinking his approach, the colored man replied differently than he would have seconds before.

"I had come looking for everyone, since the mansion was so quiet. But then I saw… this strange man. This intruder was dragging around garden shears," he began, leaving out most of what he had actually seen. "I don't know what he's up to, but it's obvious he's not here for the interior decorating. Where are the girls? We have to keep a close eye on them in case…"

"They'll be fine. They're all safely tucked away," Murdoc interjected, a small hint of a grin on his face. Before Russel could get a better look, the smirk vanished. He strolled past the worried gardener, glancing casually over his shoulder to face him again. "I'll look into it, but… are you sure you saw someone like that? Seems like something out of a horror movie…"

"No, I definitely saw him. I got away and ran into you," Russel confirmed, unsettled by Murdoc's nonchalant attitude toward the situation. Regardless, he said nothing more and watched the caretaker carry on down the hall.

"Well, thank you for letting me know. If there is an intruder in here, it's best for you to head back to your room and lock up," he informed, never looking back or stopping when he spoke. Russel, feeling at a loss, stood silent for several seconds, still reeling from the entire ordeal. In his clouded state of mind, he nodded absently.

"Yeah…"

. . .

Once he was a considerable distance from Russel, a scowl spread across Murdoc's face. His body had become tense, his steps quick. His arms now swung stiffly at his sides as he walked, his hands clenched tight.

The caretaker maneuvered down the dimly lit corridors with ease, knowing where he was and where he was going. Eventually, he reached the hall where he had left Evelyn. Upon arrival at this particular room, the smirk had once again returned to his features. Fishing out the correct key from his pocket, Murdoc opened the door and stepped in.

He saw Evelyn lying asleep on the couch, possibly passing out from stress or pain. She hardly moved in her unconscious state; only the subtle motion of her chest rising and falling from breathing could be seen.

Huffing lowly, Murdoc leisurely strolled over to a small desk next to the piano. He opened the top drawer after unlocking it, revealing a bottle of whiskey and a simple glass cup. With a blank expression, the caretaker popped the cork and poured some of its contents into the glass. In one swift tip of the cup, Murdoc downed the whiskey with a single swallow. A content sigh passed through his lips before his mismatched eyes found their way back to where Evelyn slept.

From a distance, it appeared as if the dark-haired teenager was sleeping soundly. But a closer look revealed the faintest hint of distress and agony in her pale features, a testament of what the cruel caretaker had done to her a little over an hour ago. Seeing this, Murdoc gave a twisted grin, as if triumphant of his callous and despicable deeds.

After setting down his now empty glass, Murdoc made his way over to the teenager in calm, silent steps. For a moment, he only stood there, leering down at her with hungry, preying eyes. There was a look of brief contemplation in his features, but it did not last. Without hesitation, the cruel man dumped some of the whiskey on Evelyn, the cold liquid splashing over her face and chest.

Evelyn instantly sprung awake, shooting up to sitting position with a quick, sharp gasp. Her green eyes wide, she called out Gwen's name by reflex. The teen's hopes sank when she saw a now annoyed Murdoc instead.

"Sorry. Gwen isn't here."

"Where is she? What have you done with her?!" Evelyn demanded, her anger resurfacing with each word said. Seeing the chilling grin that spread across Murdoc's face, horror swept over her instantly. "No, you didn't…!"

"No, she's alive and well. The little brat's with the others, safely locked away," stated the caretaker, fiddling with his necklace. He spotted the look of relief in the teenager's features, his smirk remaining. "Or do you not care for the other girls?"

"Y-you're wrong. I do care," Evelyn protested, her tone firm and threatening. However, Murdoc was unfazed. "But I've known Gwen since her infancy; she's like a sister to me. I want to know that she'll be alright."

"By the end of the night, none of them will be _alright_." As he spoke to her, Murdoc walked over to the desk, where he set down the half empty whiskey bottle. A short chuckle was heard from him before he faced Evelyn again, taking in her shocked reaction. "Why should you care wot happens to those ignorant sheep?"

"Please, Murdoc! All I ask is to see Gwen. I _have _to see her. Please!"

For a minute or two, Murdoc remained silent, thinking over Evelyn's simple request. Then, he huffed, turning around and sitting on the chair in front of the piano, looking at the teenager as he crossed his legs.

"Hmm. I _might _allow this, but wot do I receive in return for this favor?" asked he, staring over at her with wide, questioning eyes. Her shoulders slumping slightly, Evelyn placed her own eyes to the floor.

"Anything you want. Just… don't hurt her anymore. She doesn't deserve such treatment from you."

A cold, mirthless laugh was heard from the dark-haired man, causing Evelyn to look up and give him the deepest glare she could muster. Murdoc did not seem to notice it or care, as the laughter continued for several seconds until fading to a broken chuckle. Clearly amused, the phony caretaker folded his arms across his chest and sat back a bit.

"That bitch has you wrapped around her little finger, doesn't she? Ha!" Despite her anger, Evelyn said and did nothing in response, not wanting to give him the reaction he wanted. After willing his second fit of laughter away, Murdoc leaned forward with his elbows on his legs, a serious expression on his face. "Fine, we have a deal. But don't expect to see her again after this."

Evelyn said nothing, her eyes finding the floor again. If she could gather up enough courage, then Murdoc's remark could not be true. For now, she told herself, she will go along with the cruel man's orders. She could only hope it will not last. Murdoc, noting her actions, narrowed his eyes.

"I take your silence as an agreement to my terms?" Evelyn nodded. "Good. You had better make your visit count, then. Let's get this over with."

Never looking up from the floor, Evelyn stood from the couch and made her way to the door where Murdoc was waiting. She jumped in surprise when she felt a towel gently hit her face; she caught it and looked over to the caretaker in confusion. His expression was blank, his eyes still narrowed.

"Dry yourself off, girl. You're soaked."

. . .

The walk down the seemingly endless hallways was long and quiet, at least from Evelyn's perspective. All of the corridors looked alike to her, so she paid special attention to the furniture decorating them to be able to better distinguish the halls. She could only hope that she will be able to put this information to use later on.

She then placed her eyes onto Murdoc, who walked in front of her. There was no need for him to take precautionary measures; Evelyn had to follow him to get what she wanted. So, without having to worry about it, the phony caretaker fell into his thoughts, a look of great concentration planted firmly in his features.

After an unknown amount of time, the two finally arrived to the door leading to the basement. Evelyn was confused at first, wondering why they had stopped at this unfamiliar, plain door. But when Murdoc pulled out a set of keys from his pocket, she quickly realized in horror that they had in fact come to their destination.

"You have ten minutes," stated the dark-haired man, eyeing Evelyn with a grimace. When the teen gave a single nod, he fiddled the numerous keys for the correct one. "After that, you're through. So, make it last, eh?"

Evelyn glared at him, but said nothing as Murdoc found the key he needed. In one quick twist of the wrist, the basement door was unlocked and opened. The black-haired teen wasted no time in dashing past Murdoc and into the dimly-lit subterranean room.

The girls trapped inside looked on with surprised eyes as Evelyn rushed down the stairs, unsure of what was happening. The only one who made no move at all was Gwen, her left eye encircled in black. She lay motionless on the cold concrete floor, staring off to nothing. Seeing this, Evelyn kneeled down before the redhead, her expression revealing her shock and sorrow.

"Gwen… Gwen, it's Evelyn. I'm here now." She gently lifted the broken child until she was sitting up and facing her, yet Gwen did not react, as if she did not see Evelyn at all. With tears in her eyes, the oldest of the girls held the redhead close before looking over to the others. "What happened to her?"

"She had gotten away from…" Imogene purposely trailed off, motioning her head over to Murdoc, though his attention was somewhere outside of the basement. Seeing that the caretaker was not listening, Imogene continued. "But he caught her, and brought her back here. Looks like he roughed her up a bit, too."

Taken aback, Evelyn positioned Gwen to where she could see her face better in the weak light. Previously hidden by the dark, the older teen now saw the black eye in all its gruesome glory. Sorrow was quickly replaced by rage and Evelyn, blinded by it, whirled around to face Murdoc.

Before she did anything rash, however, her better judgment regained control and she went back to embracing the unresponsive preteen. Evelyn desperately called out to Gwen, pleading for her to snap out of her daze. After a few tries, her efforts appeared to have paid off.

Blinking her widened bluish gray eyes, the redhead slowly looked up at her lifetime friend. There was a moment of uncertainty in Gwen's expression, as if she was not sure if she was really seeing Evelyn. But a soft smile and a gentle stroke of her cherry red bangs revealed to her that she was not dreaming. Evelyn was right there, holding her.

"Eve…" Fully conscious, Gwen wrapped her arms around Evelyn in a tight embrace, unable to hold back the tears that slipped out of her eyes. The older teen hugged her back, her own tears falling as well. She tried to keep a level voice before speaking to her adopted sister.

"There, there, it's alright. I'm here."

"Five minutes, Evelyn," snapped Murdoc from the doorway, his teeth bared and his eyes slit. His impatient announcement earned him a swift glare from Evelyn, but she did not reply to him, turning back to Gwen instead. Murdoc's eyes lingered on Evelyn for a moment, a small, twisted grin twitching at his lips, before he returned to keeping watch for unknown reasons. Elsie caught this look, suspiciously glaring at the cruel man.

Gwen, having spotted Murdoc after previously not realizing he was there, fell into a small panic and latched onto Evelyn once again. She willed her shaky voice to work. "Don't go, Eve! He'll hurt you…"

"It's okay, Gwen. I'll be fine. I want you to stay strong, alright? Be brave for everyone," said the black-haired teen with a frown, holding onto her and gently rocking back and forth in an attempt to comfort the redhead. Looking at the display of affection, some of the other girls could not help but feel a little jealous. After all, they were all trapped and scared as well, yet Evelyn appeared to practically ignore them.

"What's going on, Evelyn? Why isn't Murdoc leaving you with us?" Maria questioned in a whisper, nervously looking over at the caretaker impatiently tapping his foot and mumbling incoherent words to himself. Evelyn faced her, still frowning.

"I can't say. But you will pull through this," she replied, smiling faintly. Soon after, she secretly slipped something into Gwen's back pocket. The redhead was too distracted to notice; Karen, however, did. Never missing a beat, Evelyn continued. "Be brave, all of you. Don't let this entrapment discourage you."

"Time's up," Murdoc stated bitterly, rushing over and pulling Evelyn away from Gwen. Outrage and screaming erupted from the group of girls left behind, pleading to their former caretaker to release them. As expected, Murdoc did not listen to them, continuing to drag the struggling teenager up the short flight of stairs. When the two reached the top, the cruel man turned back to the other girls. "Sleep well, young ones."

With a grin, Murdoc leaned over to one of the lit candles, cupping his free hand around the tiny flame. He blew a single puff of air, but instead of the fire going out, several more candles lined up along the wall were lit up in sequence. With the entire basement now brightly illuminated, Murdoc gave them a mock farewell salute, and slammed the door closed.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty Two**

"You're a bastard! You didn't give me a chance to say goodbye!" Evelyn cried out as Murdoc locked the door, her outburst going without a reply. The combination of the girls' screaming and the dire situation they all were in quickly overwhelmed her and she fled down the hallway, shouting in vain for help. Instantly angry with the teenager, Murdoc pocketed the key with a scowl.

"_Evelyn_. We had a _deal_." His words went unheard, as the oldest adopted teen had already ran quite some distance. The caretaker gave chase, quickly catching up to her. He grabbed her forearm tightly, snarling as he spoke again. "It's over and done with! All you have is me."

"NO!" Evelyn, allowing her fear and anger to take hold, stomped down on his foot with all her might. Howling in pain, Murdoc's grip loosened, allowing her to escape. The dark-haired man, his leg lifted, swore under his breath before pursuing Evelyn once more.

She ran without looking back, screaming as loud as she could. But no one came to her aid; she was all alone. Eventually, Evelyn collapsed in a hallway running parallel with the courtyard, her breathing heavy. After catching her breath, she stood and glanced out of the window nearby. Inevitably, she spotted Paula's corpse still hanging on the iron fence.

"Oh my god!" Evelyn cried, covering her mouth with a hand and backing into the opposite wall, her eyes as wide as saucers. Driven into hysteria, the horrified teenager continued to shout and cry at the sight; she was hardly aware that Murdoc had caught up with her again.

"Fucking bitch," spat the phony caretaker, giving Evelyn a swift slap to the face for her insolence. The hit hardly fazed her, her mind clouded by distress. Regardless, Murdoc roughly dragged her along, heading back toward the music room. During the journey there, Evelyn gradually slipped out of her shock-induced trance and back to the harsh, horrifying reality.

"W-where…?"

"We're going back to the music room. You're gonna stay there while I take care of a few things," came Murdoc's bitter reply, never bothering to look at her. Her mind still hazy, Evelyn snapped her gaze to the hallway behind her.

"What about Gwen and the others? I want to tell them goodbye."

"Too bad. They're probably all dead anyway." Murdoc's words were like a dagger stabbing through her heart, her breath catching in her throat. Countless questions and concerns ran across her mind like racehorses, thundering past her consciousness before she could process the details.

No matter how much she protested and struggled, Evelyn could not get away from the caretaker's iron grip. For the rest of the way back, the teenager was pulled along by the arm, the screams reverberating through every crevasse of the vast mansion.

. . .

It did not take the girls long to realize that Murdoc would not return to free them, and their cries for help quickly died down. The candles that now lit up along the walls illuminated the cold, dank basement, revealing the layers of grime and dust collected over the years of disuse. While they liked being able to see their surroundings, there was something not right about the situation.

"So that's it. They're leaving us here for dead, aren't they?" Maria stated in a low, saddened tone. Her inquiry was met with silence and disheartened looks, the other girls having no answer for it.

"We'll just have to figure our own damn way out," replied Imogene with a determined glower, her fists clenched tight as she spoke. She received several nods in response, their melancholy outlook diminishing. "Door shouldn't be too hard to open."

"Not if we find some way of jimmying the lock somehow," Elsie chimed in, her focused and narrowed eyes locked onto the door blocking their path to freedom. With a sigh, her expression softened. "And all of my hairpins were left in my room."

"Do you guys find it really stuffy in here all of a sudden?" Lisa suddenly piped up, her eyes wide as she looked around the underground room. Her observation sent waves of stunned horror over the orphans, all of them coming to the exact same conclusion.

They were slowly losing oxygen in the sealed basement.

"By God… Murdoc truly is a monster." Elsie's shaky words sent fear through the others, panic quickly taking hold. Their gazes fell on the candles hung high on the walls, inches from their reach.

"So that's why he lit the candles!" Lisa cried out.

"The fire is sucking up all our air," added Imogene angrily, rushing up the stairs and pounding on the door. "The bastard really is trying to kill us!"

Gwen, frightened and still crying at Evelyn's absence, kept to herself as she observed her fellow orphans from a distance. Everything seemed to be happening much too fast for the young redhead to fully grasp, leaving her completely dumbfounded and unable to take action. Before, she had always thought she was relatively brave, but after this, she slowly began to realize that she just may not be after all.

"If only your precious Evelyn hadn't come, we'd at least have some oxygen!" Maria yelled after roughly shoving Gwen to the floor. The preteen, not expecting such a thing, toppled over easily.

"Yeah! So much for her kind and caring personality! What a joke," Lisa joined in next, her hands on her hips as she loomed over the shocked redhead. Frustrated at the two girls' behavior, Elsie attempted to intervene.

"Enough, you two…"

"Everyone knows how openly you despised Murdoc, Gwen. Maybe the whole reason he's doing this is because he's pissed off at you," Imogene cut in, her tone of voice low and strained. She still stood at the top of the stairs, her eyes locked onto her feet. Gwen and the other girls were surprised at the American's statement. "Look at how much he goes out of his way to hurt you. Maybe he took out his anger on Rosie and Paula…"

"No! The Scissorman got Paula! He's the one killing everybody!" Gwen shouted in her defense, standing back up. Her words confused the other girls, not knowing who she was referring to. Regardless of their perplexity, the verbal tirade continued.

"What the hell are you talking about? Making shit up now?" Maria shoved Gwen again, but she was expecting it and remained standing. This only served to maker her hits harder. "You think Evelyn's gonna save you? Huh?!"

"Stop this! It's pointless to accuse and blame. Right now we must focus on finding a way out of here." Elsie stepped in between the combative teens, ending the fight. Despite tempers flaring, they knew that she had a point and backed down, much to Gwen's relief.

Several seconds later, Karen, who had kept out of the way, approached Gwen with an excited look on her face. The redhead, unsure of her intentions, shied away from her at first. But the warming smile on the deaf teen's face reassured her that she was not going to harm her. Now seeing that Gwen would not be afraid, Karen excitedly dug around in the redhead's back pocket.

"What the heck is she doing?" Lisa questioned, her expression revealing her confusion; Maria mirrored her concerns. In turn, Imogene made her way down the stairs and approached her unhearing friend, she too wondering what was going on.

Still smiling wide, Karen pulled out a bobby pin from Gwen's pocket. She held it up for everyone to see, a ripple of surprise and confusion moving through the group. Not believing what she was seeing, Imogene took the pin from the joyous Karen, inspecting it as if it were buried treasure or the Hope Diamond.

"This… We can use this!" cried the brunette with a relieved, quick laugh. As the joy died down, for some, it turned to blinded frustration. Maria and Lisa aimed it at Gwen, who also held a surprised expression at their new discovery. Not even expecting it, her hair was grabbed by the Asian teen and pulled toward her and her only remaining friend. It was easy to see the anger in their features.

"It's bad enough you coulda caused all this. Now you're holding out on us?!" Outrage and confusion erupted throughout the group, their emotions running rampant once again.

Gwen could not get a word in to defend herself, her already bruised face and body receiving several more blows in the scramble. It was only by Karen and Elsie coming between the two bullies that the painful hits ceased. Now on the ground and angry at the accusations, the redhead managed to shout her side of the story.

"I don't use hairpins! It's not mine! I don't know how it got in there, I swear!"

"Well it surely didn't just jump into your pocket!" Lisa argued, jabbing a narrow finger at her, the pink polish on the nail cracking and peeling from her biting on it earlier. Gwen went to shout a response, but found that she could not counter her argument fully. Fortunately for her, Karen began communicating to Imogene in sign language explaining what she had witnessed.

"What's she saying, Imogene?" asked Elsie.

"She saw Evelyn slipping the bobby pin in Gwen's pocket before she left," the brunette answered lowly, giving a quiet sigh. "That must have been why she came to visit us in the first place."

"Let's waste no time. Pick the lock so we can get out of here." Elsie did not need to repeat her simple command. Within seconds, Imogene and the others gathered around the door, jabbing the pin into the lock. It took a few tries, but soon the old lock finally relented and opened.

All six girls rushed out into the hallway, breathing in the cool, fresh air. The relief in their lungs were all too apparent, and they could almost cheer with glee. After checking to see if the coast was clear, the group of teens gathered to initiate a plan for their escape.

"Now that we're out, what happens now?" Lisa asked in a voice barely above a whisper, lightly biting on her nails afterward.

"The best course of action would be to find an exit somewhere," answered Elsie just as lowly, her narrowed eyes keeping a lookout for anyone approaching. After some moment of thought, she continued. "Since there are so many of us, it may be better to split up into smaller groups, or alone."

"I agree. That way, if Murdoc finds one of us, he won't catch us all," Imogene spoke next, her features almost as blank as Elsie's. She absently fiddled with one of her pigtails, messy from having previously slept with them. Her tone grew much graver when she decided to add on to her previous statement. "Just don't be the one he catches."

Their mood, which had been fairly uplifted at having escaped the basement, leeched from their feet and into the floor at Imogene's truthful words. It brought fear back into their expressions, and all of them tensed, mentally preparing themselves for such a thing to happen.

"That being said, I prefer to go about this alone for now," piped in Elsie as she turned away from her fellow orphans; she did not see the looks of disappointment that flashed across a few of the girls' faces. When the colored teen glanced back over her shoulder at them, the expressions were gone. "We should meet up in one of our rooms some time later, in case we find anything. If you hear someone, don't reveal your position until you know who it is."

"Gotcha. We'll see you then, Elsie," Maria confirmed flatly, her jaw clenched and her stance stiff as a board. It was subtle, but her nervousness definitely showed.

Every time she thought about their situation, her mind would sail back to the imagery of her friend falling out of a window and being impaled. It was still such a hard concept to grasp, Paula actually being dead. She and her fellow orphans now knew first hand how quickly life can be taken away, and how much it would affect your loved ones.

As if they had not had their own fair share of hardship in their lives.

With Elsie now out of their range of sight and on her own, the remaining teens formed their plan of action. It was plain to see that Imogene and Karen would accompany each other, the same with Maria and Lisa. Gwen was the only one without a set partner, and she certainly wanted one.

"I'm sorry, Gwen. But we all know your uncanny knack for running into Murdoc, or vice versa. Karen and I just can't afford to have that kind of misfortune," Imogene stated bluntly, using a hand to gently push the redhead back when she approached them. A look of hurt was seen on her bruised face, but the American stood firm. "We'll meet up later, maybe."

With that said, Imogene and Karen departed, though the deaf teen appeared confused. She spoke to her friend in the only language she could use, pointing at Gwen after communicating. Imogene shook her head and guided Karen forward, despite the obvious but silent protests.

Gwen, still frowning, fiddled with the hem of her T-shirt before looking over to Maria and Lisa, who were whispering amongst each other. When her staring caught their attention, the dark-haired teen glared and lashed out at her.

"Don't even think about it, you bratty little waste of space!" shouted Maria as she stormed over to the redhead, who cringed and scrambled away. The oriental girl did nothing more but jab an accusing finger at her, her temper rising once again. "You'll be _fiiine_, won't you? You got your precious Evelyn to protect you, right?"

Gwen glared back at her, no longer keeping her anger at bay as well. She was both astonished and appalled at the behavior of the girls she shared her entire life with, how easily they turned on her. The redhead now realized why.

"If it weren't for Eve, we'd still be choking on our own spit in there," she began, bravely walking up to the belligerent Asian. The shorter teen made eye contact and kept it there, a difficult task for her. "She didn't just come for me. She came for all of us, to help us out. Why do you have to be a bitch about it, huh?"

Gwen did not get an answer, not in words, anyway.

A swift punch to the left side of her face was her response, the force sending her tumbling to the floor. Pain erupted through her head, the still tender bruise over her eye practically screaming in protest. Biting back her own outcry, the redhead covered the afflicted area with a muffled groan.

"Let's go, Lisa. Murdoc's bound to show up with _her _around," commanded the new appointed leader of the two, backing away and returning to Lisa. Both of them sneering, the bullies turned and began walking down a different hallway. Looking back over her shoulder, the taller blonde callously spoke.

"Yeah. If we're lucky, that just might happen."

Once the pain had mostly subsided and when she could no longer hear the footsteps of Maria and Lisa, Gwen slowly got to her feet with great effort. The large shiner on her eye throbbed painfully, but the redhead willed herself to ignore it. As heartless as their words were, she did agree on one thing: getting as far away from where she was as possible.

Frightened but trying not to show it, Gwen rushed down a long corridor and beyond, hoping to find a means of escape. She inwardly debated with herself if she would tell the others about it, if she found one.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty Three**

There was not a sound to be heard in the gigantic building that has become a place of torture and mayhem for the adopted girls; not even the sound of rain outside made it to Gwen's ears as she carefully traversed through the dimly lit corridors, hoping to find either Evelyn or a way out of the mansion. The redhead preferred it if she could find both.

Her entire body trembled with acute anxiety, her nerves pushed to the limit. Sweat poured from almost every available surface, most of it collected on her forehead. The slightest possibility of getting caught by either Murdoc or the Scissorman drove her forward, kept her running. Gwen swore to herself that she would not die in this mansion, and she intended to follow through with it.

She figured she was just seeing things, but as Gwen continued on down the lengthy hallway, she noticed that the walls, floor, ceiling, and everything else appeared to progressively deteriorate. Water rhythmically dripped from above, splashing into the soggy carpet riddled with mildew. It was as if the mansion had been flooded for weeks, and that the water had recently receded.

The redhead took in the scenery with confused eyes, her sneakers sloshing and splashing as she walked through the puddles and soaked carpet. The lamps, mounted on the walls along the way, flickered and dimmed, giving off little light. Eventually, after traveling for some time, Gwen was met with an abyss of pitch black.

She was rightfully afraid and cautious, stopping just at the edge of the weakened light. Unable to come to a decision, Gwen glances over her shoulder to look back the way she came. All she could see was fuzzy darkness and water rot, a vastly different scene than what she had just passed through.

_Everything looks so different… _Gwen told herself, worry firmly plastered onto her face. She was surrounded by the unknown, stuck in a single section of dim light. She felt stranded, afraid, and alone. _Where should I go? _

After several tense seconds, the redhead was answered with an eerie and all too familiar sound of footsteps approaching her position. She perked up instantly at the noise, her heart skipping a beat. When she could determine where the footsteps were coming from, Gwen turned and bolted in the opposite direction, right into the darkness that had stopped her in the first place.

She rushed down long corridors, making sharp turns as fast as she could. When she would come upon a small patch of light, the words "_Keep running, keep running as fast as you can…_" were seen carved into the water-stained walls. For the most part, Gwen ignored it, her focus solely on getting away from the one making those footsteps.

Looking ahead, the preteen spotted a door opened only slightly, its off-white paint cracked and peeling. A word of caution briefly flashed through her mind, but she was much too blinded by fright to take much heed to it. Gwen hurried through the presented opening and quickly shut the door behind her, falling deathly still as she listened for her pursuer. After several minutes of hearing nothing, the redhead hesitantly turned her attention to the room she had rushed into.

It was dark, the only illumination being the occasional flashes of lightning from outside. Using this limited source of light, Gwen searched through drawers and desks for something else she could use to see with. By some extreme stroke of luck, her tiny hands found the plastic handle of a flashlight.

Relieved and elated at her find, Gwen snatched up the device and turned it on, shining the beam over everything in the room. The furniture and elegant décor led her to believe that the bedroom she was in had been, or still is, well used. When her artificial light landed on a fairly large mirror, Gwen jumped in fright at her reflection. A frustrated sigh was heard from her, feeling silly for being afraid of such a thing.

_Look at me, I'm a nervous wreck! _the redhead told herself with a light glare, making her way over to the mirror. It was then when she could get a view of her current appearance: the painful bruise over her eye, her tattered clothes, her terrified expression. The sight of it all sent her reeling, a frown soon forming on her face. _And I look like a nervous wreck, too…_

Gwen, unable to stand looking at herself, turned back to the rest of the room. Immediately her line of sight fell on a small desk straight ahead. On top of it was what looked like a thin book of some sort, with a peculiar gleaming object set on its dusty surface. Curious, the redhead made her way over to it.

The item that had shined so brightly in the light was revealed to be a regular kitchen knife, the tempered steel pristine compared to the book beneath it. Gwen briefly inspected it before putting it aside, her focus completely on the worn out book.

She opened it fairly quickly, eager to see what was written on its pages, and why it was placed so carefully on top of the desk. Doing this, Gwen instantly realized that the book was in fact a journal. Reading the name signed at the end of each note, the preteen was shocked to see the name David.

_This is his journal. So… this must be his room. _Gwen's eyes trailed off to the side for a few minutes, thinking over the situation. When the suspense became too much to bear, she placed them back on the first entry.

It was dated September of 1982, though a specific day was not mentioned. The writing itself was messy and all over the place, most of it barely legible. Flipping through several pages yielded the same image, the book filled with random entries and ramblings. When Gwen turned to the final passage, written in July of the following year, the message piqued her interest and she took the time to read it entirely.

"_She's gone, gone forever. I found her in her room. Oh god oh god no, no, NO! Called the police. Morgue has her now. Oh, my dear Rachel. How can I go on without you?"_

Appearing disturbed by what she had read, Gwen, on impulse, turned the page. Only one sentence was written on it, a simple phrase of two words: "I can't." The redhead flipped over to the next page, seeing the same phrase. For well over ten single pages, the writing of those two words grew increasingly scrawled and illegible. Finally after the thirteenth flip, one last message was revealed.

"_To Murdoc, my trusted friend. I leave this house, and my son, to you. I know you'll take good care of him. I haven't the will to do it myself. -D"_

When Gwen, her expression riddled with shock, turned the page again, only a blank sheet stared back up at her. She was somewhat relieved that there was nothing else in the journal, the passages leaving her saddened and horrified all at once.

"Whatever happened in this place… I almost don't wanna find out," Gwen told herself with a frown, closing the book and all of its horrid secrets. She then placed her eyes back to the knife, the blade shining and shimmering. It was as if it were beckoning her to take it. After a moment of contemplation, the redhead decided that she would need it and took it.

No sooner had the knife entered Gwen's back pocket, she noticed that the room had begun to undergo a drastic change. The walls, originally a pale yellow color, morphed and distorted into an old, rusty, metallic appearance. Grating and broken tile made up the floor, revealing a blackened abyss below.

Frightened and confused, Gwen backed away from the rusted desk and turned around, coming face to face with the large mirror. In the reflection, the room around her appeared as it had originally looked, but an endless amount of blood oozed and dripped from the walls and any other possible orifice available. Her own image, while still retaining its regular outlook, stood staring back at her with blank, soulless eyes. When the redhead hesitantly stepped forward, her reflection remained rooted to the spot.

Gwen was alarmed at this anomaly, but outwardly showed hardly any reaction to it. She swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing herself to keep moving ahead; it was the only way out. Even still, the reflection did not budge.

Each step was like walking on pins and needles, the preteen not knowing what to do or how to react in the situation she was in. The metallic clanging with every footfall resounded in the distorted room like the thundering ring of a giant gong; it was as if the room itself watched the redhead's every move with hungry, invisible eyes.

As Gwen slowly and cautiously began to pass the mirror, her previously unmoving reflection suddenly morphed closer within the glass decoration's limits, disappearing and reappearing like missing frames in a film. The other Gwen had its bloodied hands on the glass and its hand down, its face hidden by its bangs. When it lifted its head to look at the terrified Gwen, almost every available surface was covered in blood.

The reflection, without any warning, opened its mouth, a horrible screeching cry emitting from it. The sound spurred Gwen into rushing to the door and bursting through it, the scream reaching high frequencies.

The redhead had stumbled only a few steps outside when she was abruptly taken into a tight embrace, the action happening too fast for her to see who had grabbed her. For a split second, Gwen had thought it was Evelyn, but a look into the face of the person incinerated that assumption.

She was stunned to see that the blue-haired killer, who she had dubbed Scissorman, was the one hugging her. His solid white eyes stared down at her, the pupils scarcely visible. A faint smile completed the overall creepy situation; Gwen was frozen in place, petrified by fear.

"I've been looking all over for you," stated the Scissorman, slowly tightening his grip on Gwen. It was this action that snapped her out of her daze, and the redhead, who only reached up to his chest, began to struggle. The killer's grin remained. "Now we're gonna play another game."

Gwen gave a strangled cry before breaking free from the strange man, running down the hallway at full speed. The Scissorman, undaunted, picked up his shears from against the wall, glancing quickly inside the dark, quiet room before calmly giving chase. He caught up with her within a minute or two, as Gwen had fled to a dead end.

"No, no, I don't want to play Chase anymore," said the blue-haired killer as he approached, lightly shaking his head as if in disagreement. Gwen, trembling like a leaf, watched with widened and wavering eyes at the Scissorman. As her back pressed against the wall, she remembered the knife she had tucked away. Without hesitation, the redhead swiftly removed it and pointed it at her pursuer.

"Stay back!" she warned, though she appeared hardly threatening, mostly due to her size and shaking frame. As if not hearing her threat, the Scissorman boldly came closer to her. With tears in her eyes and nowhere to run, Gwen snapped at him again. "I said STAY BACK!"

On impulse, the redhead gave a quick swipe of her knife, a barrage of emotions running rampant in her when she saw that she had made contact with the killer's arm. Blood instantly dripped from the open wound, and the blue-haired man stopped his approach to inspect it. His blank expression soon held a twisted, strange grin; he gave a short chuckle before stepping closer to Gwen.

The redhead was beyond baffled at the killer's behavior, but continued to slice at his exposed arms and anywhere else she could reach. All she received for her efforts were crazed bouts of laughter and pleasured moans, eventually driving her to stop and stare up at the Scissorman in horror.

His breathing heavy, the blue-haired killer eagerly unbuttoned his dirty shirt, revealing a heavily scarred torso. When every button had been unlatched, he turned his sights back to the confused preteen.

"Don't stop," he commanded, his large hand tightly grabbing Gwen's tinier one. With the killer's bony palm and fingers wrapped around her hand, the redhead was unable to release her hold on her knife, no matter how much she struggled and resisted.

He forced her knife-wielding hand up to the left of his chest, allowing the blade to pierce his skin. Unable to stop the strange man, Gwen could only watch as he slowly carved her name into his chest. Blood dripped down his stomach and onto his pants, staining them a dark red. The Scissorman held his head back for a moment, his eyes closed in what appeared to be satisfaction. When he looked down at his handiwork, a twisted, content grin reappeared in his features.

"Gwen… What a nice name." The killer placed his eyes back onto the terrified and sickened redhead, as if waiting for her to respond. When she did not, he traced over the fresh cuts with his free hand, smearing the blood collected around them. "I really like this game. I went first, now it's your turn."

Instantly alert at the blue-haired boy's suggestion, Gwen cried out in refusal and tugged at her captive arm. The shears wielder appeared confused at her vehement resistance, as if not understanding why the redhead would not want to finish a game she started. In his confusion, his grip weakened, allowing Gwen a chance to break free and escape. The Scissorman remained where he was, his questioning look still visible in his features.

As she ran, Gwen dared to look behind her, shocked to see that the strange man was not there. She slowed her pace, keeping her gaze locked onto that spot. The strange and horrifying events weighed heavily on her mind, truly disturbing her. The preteen could not fathom the killer's reasoning behind his behavior, but also did not really want to know.

Looking ahead again, the redhead came to a sudden stop, her eyes wide. Standing only a few feet away from her was the blue-haired killer, his white eyes almost glowing in the dim light. There was no distinguishable expression on his face, his thick brows furrowed and his mouth open only slightly.

Then, a smile crept its way onto his face; he took a few steps toward Gwen, the preteen responding by backing away. The killer brought his shears before him, his grin turning sinister as he opened the blades wide.

"Looks like you enjoy playing Chase."

Fearing for her life, Gwen turned and bolted down the way she came, with the Scissorman giving pursuit. She rushed through the first open door she saw, going into a room cluttered with many types of old furniture and other decorative items. Ducking through the dusty, splintered wood, Gwen hid away behind a broken wardrobe, hugging her knees and listening for the strange man chasing her.

Tears stung the redhead's eyes, distressed and her nerves strained and pushed to its limit. It appeared as if there was nothing she could do to get the killer to stop; no matter how far she ran, he always caught up, no matter how much she hurt him, he seemed to enjoy it. She was trapped.

It was not too long after when Gwen heard the staggering footsteps of her blue-haired pursuer, the sounds quickly growing in volume. She could tell that he had entered the room she was in, the squeaky hinges of the door opening easily giving it away. The redhead remained as still as she could, hoping not to be found.

"Oh Gweeeen, where are youuuu?" taunted the Scissorman, the sound of objects overturning blaring through the silence. A short, broken laugh was then heard from him; Gwen realized that he was closer. "Come out and show me that pretty li'le face of yours."

Much to Gwen's horror, the strange man peered behind the wardrobe where she was hiding, grinning at his find. In one firm push, the Scissorman turned over the heavy piece of furniture. It collapsed on the floor with a loud thud.

As Gwen went to scramble away, she felt his hand grab hold of one of her pockets. When she slipped away from him, a small photo fell weightlessly to the floor. Intrigued, the Scissorman picked it up and looked at it, seeing Gwen and Evelyn when they were in the orphanage.

Overcome by a sudden fit of rage, the killer scrunched the picture in his hand, a snarl in his features and his breathing deep. Without a word, he dropped the ruined photo and exited the cluttered room. This left Gwen crying and confused, not knowing the reason behind the blue-haired man's behavior.

After a while, the frightened child cautiously emerged from the relative safety of the room, looking around for the Scissorman. When she did not see him around, Gwen ducked and darted between drawers and chairs, trying to stay hidden. Her best action, she realized, was to find someone and stick with them. The next step would be to get out of the mansion.

Thinking back to the picture that the killer had ruined, Gwen made up her mind to find Evelyn first. She also hoped to find the other girls as well, but felt that it would only be right to meet up with the single person that truly cared for her. _But where could Eve be?_

That single question hung over her head like a dark cloud, also thinking of all the obstacles and adversaries that she must overcome and avoid. As Gwen tentatively made her way down the long, dark hallway, she put on a brave outlook. But her trembling hands and nervous steps revealed otherwise.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty Four**

Separated from the other girls, Imogene and Karen quietly and cautiously made their way down winding corridors and squeaky stairs. For most of the journey, none of them spoke to each other, much too focused on staying hidden and finding a way out.

Karen had followed behind Imogene, her thoughts racing and calculating. She thought back to when she and her American friend split up from the other girls, recalling Gwen's expression when Imogene would not let her come with them. The deaf teen could not understand her reasoning for doing that, and it has been running constantly in her head ever since.

As time went on, and she could no longer stand it, Karen decided to get Imogene's attention and confronted her about it. The brunette seemed surprised at first, but tried to blow it off and move on. However, Karen would have none of it and remained adamant about her silent inquiry.

"Come off it, Karen. We have to keep moving," Imogene stated in sign language, her motions urgent and her stance tense. With a glare, the deaf teen defiantly gave a reply.

"I want to know why you wouldn't let Gwen come along."

"There would be too many of us. Do you want Murdoc to catch us again?" Imogene turned ahead again and moved forward, attempting to end the discussion. Karen, angry still, remained where she was.

"_I know there's another reason."_

The brunette visibly cringed at the voice in her head, her body going stiff as a result. After recovering from her momentary stun, Imogene faced Karen once more, her expression mirroring her friend's. _I told you to never talk in my head like that._

"_You gave me no choice," _the voice, apparently Karen's, stated as she crossed her arms. Imogene scoffed in response, now less tense than before. Seeing that she had the American's attention, the older teen spoke in sign language again. "What is it that's bothering you? Did Gwen do something?"

"We don't have time to discuss it, Karen."

"As you wish. Perhaps we should discuss nothing at all." Karen's firm expression gave power to those silent words, revealing how upset she was. Seeing the shocked look on Imogene's face, the deaf teen turned halfway before finishing her former statement. "I'm going to find Gwen myself. There's no doubt she's all alone."

With nothing more said, Karen turned her back to Imogene and began walking back the way she came. If she could hear, her ears would have picked up the American saying "Good riddance," and "I'll be better off without you anyway". Karen, unhindered, kept on down the hallway, noticing how much darker it had gotten.

After rounding every corner, with each step, her visibility gradually diminished. As it grew darker, the temperature dropped as well. Eventually, Karen was trapped in a pitch black, freezing area with no way of knowing how to escape it. Deaf, blind, and shivering, the teen bravely kept moving forward, refusing to give in to her fears.

However, the knowledge of her current state made her shed tears, not knowing for sure if she really had went blind or not. It was bad enough that she could not hear anything, to lose her sight would devastate her.

With tears streaming down her face, Karen stumbled and fell. She did not bother to move from where she landed, sobbing and crying without letting up. It was as if the darkness around her was slowly creeping into the very depths of her mind.

But then, suddenly and without warning, the inky blackness began to recede, slowly revealing the hallway she was in. Her anxiety melted away along with it, the deaf teenager quickly rising to her feet. Confusion clear as day in her features, Karen pressed forward with some degree of hesitancy, not knowing what was in store for her down the way.

As she thought it over, Elsie began to regret exploring the dangerous mansion all alone, but it was much too late to turn back now. She found herself far into the east wing of the gigantic house, where they were told not to go when they had first arrived there. Not that it really mattered much now, Elsie told herself.

The colored teen slowly and cautiously traveled along the winding hallway, her senses on alert and focused. There were no lights on in this part of the mansion, the only illumination being from the quick flashes of lightning shining from the windows. This only served to unnerve Elsie even more, her honey brown eyes straining in the dark.

_I need to get to the first floor… _she mentally stated as she carefully peered into a room, its door slightly ajar. To her surprise, a large gaping hole was situated in the middle of the otherwise empty chamber; it looked as if it had been burned through.

Elsie cautiously approached the jagged opening, barely able to see the room below. Desperate, the religious teenager frantically searched the darkened room, hoping to find something that could help her. Digging through a charred desk, she was ecstatic when her hands found a small lighter, its surface covered in ash and soot from its surroundings.

"Just what I needed," Elsie said before flicking the device on, using its dim light to get a better look at what lie before her.

From what she could see, the floor below could be reached by climbing down a pile of boxes and old furniture. Carefully, the religious teen meandered her way down to solid ground once again, looking up at the level she was previously on before searching for the door out.

The only exit led to a hallway that Elsie was not familiar with, bringing her to the logical conclusion that she was in a previously unexplored area of the building. This realization brought on a plethora of emotions through the colored teenager, the strongest ones being apprehension and uncertainty.

She traveled down the corridor with uneasy steps, fully alert once again. It soon ended into a Study, a single lamp lit on a desk in the center. Once seeing that no one was present inside, Elsie walked up to it and inspected the contents on its surface.

A photograph lie innocently on top of a small pile of several documents; Elsie picked it up to get a closer look at it. Within its faded borders, she saw a man and a woman standing side by side, smiling brightly back at her. The sight of it brought a small smile to Elsie's face, feeling their happiness.

"This must be David and Rachel," she assumed, her eyes then trailing to an area in front of the couple. It was horribly scratched out, so much so that the person standing there was no longer visible.

Wrapped up in her find, Elsie was caught off guard when a sudden crash was heard from above. Startled, the teen's elbow bumped a small vase hard enough for it to fall over and shatter on the wooden floor. She froze for a moment, waiting to see if she had been heard. When she realized that she had not, Elsie peered over at the shards to inspect the damage.

A glimmer of light caught her attention, her curiosity leading the religious teen to investigate the remains of the vase. Moving aside a few shards, Elsie discovered an old fashioned brass key beneath them. Clearly surprised, she retrieved the potentially useful item.

"Wonder which door this unlocks…"

Assuring herself that he would eventually find out, Elsie pocketed the key and explored the Study further. She tried opening the window, only to find it locked. She then tried to break the glass with a chair, only to discover this particular window was made of reinforced glass. Frustrated, the teen gave up on that plan and decided to exit the room, thinking that she would have a better chance finding another way out of the hellish mansion.

"How did we ever end up in this mess?" asked a distraught Lisa as she and Maria sneak around the first floor foyers, looking for a way out. Maria did not answer her friend, feeling that the question did not need one.

"If only we could find a way outside," Maria whispered, her gaze falling to the damp windows nearby. Getting a sudden idea, the Asian teen lifted a stool before charging toward one of them, then threw the stool as hard as she could. To their utter disappointment, the wooden piece of furniture bounced harmlessly off of the glass. Maria cursed under her breath. "Must be reinforced…"

"Well now what? The doors are locked, we can't break the windows…" Lisa, her expression twisted in fear and confusion, shuffled around nervously as Maria contemplated their next move. The shorter teen perked up a bit when a thought crossed her mind.

"We should try the kitchen. I remember the door leading outside was old and weak," Maria informed, a determined grin on her face. "If we can get it open, we're home free!"

"What about the others?"

"If they're lucky, they'll find the open door themselves. Come on!" The dark-haired teen grabbed Lisa's arm as they ran off in the direction of the kitchen, their resolve rejuvenated. Being on the first floor near the main entrance, it did not take them long to reach their destination.

The kitchen was darker compared to the rest of the house, the only light coming from a flickering bulb above the stove. Cautiously, they spread out to find a better form of light for themselves. After much digging and ransacking, Lisa finally found a large utility flashlight; they were almost shocked to see that it worked.

"Okay, I'll grab that metal rod and start prying. You hold the light steady and kinda keep a lookout," Maria ordered in a whisper; Lisa nodded in understanding. With anxious hands, the oriental teenager retrieved the mentioned item and drove it into the doorframe. The light fixated on where she was prying, Maria began to push on the rod with all her might.

It took quite a lot of force, but the door did relent and opened, the metal pipe breaking in the process. They kept themselves from rushing out, having enough restraint to check for any sign of Murdoc outside. Seeing no one, Mara and Lisa high-fived each other, their excitement at its peak.

"This is it. We're _so _out of here!" Lisa cried with a grin, hurrying outside into the soaked lawn. It had momentarily stopped raining, as if the storm had lifted in celebration of the two teens' find. When Maria followed suit, she and Lisa hurried toward the front of the large house. Once there, they hoped, they would finally be on their way to freedom.

After a harrowing struggle, Murdoc had managed to drag Evelyn back to the music room. The ebony-haired teen had put up quite a struggle, screaming and crying as loud as she could. But her efforts were futile; the phony caretaker held firm and clung to her like a final lifeline.

With every ounce of effort he had, Murdoc practically tossed the weeping teen onto the couch. Simply being in it brought up memories that Evelyn did not want to think about, her fear making her cringe and freeze up. Widened green eyes watched the dark-haired man as he walked suavely over to her, a callous grin spread across his olive colored face.

"You need not cry. I did you a _favor_," he said, lightly jabbing a finger at Evelyn. Eyes showing fear quickly switched to anger, the teenager glaring daggers at Murdoc's statement. He was hardly fazed at her reaction; he almost seemed to enjoy it. "They were nothing but a weight on your shoulder, a shackle around your ankle. A burden. You deserve better than that."

"You know nothing of what I deserve! You're just fulfilling your own dark desires!" Evelyn cried out breathlessly, her lip curled in disgust. "You know _nothing_."

Murdoc's twisted grin remained, his knuckles cracking when he clenched his fist. He did nothing more to her as she made his way back over to the door, much to Evelyn's surprise. The caretaker came to a stop, standing with his back facing Evelyn for a few seconds before peering at her over his shoulder.

"I know more than you think." He gave the frightened teen a piercing stare before exiting the room, slamming the door behind him. For several minutes Murdoc stood by the door, staring wide-eyed at the floor. His hands were shaking, his breathing was heavy, and one of his eyes would periodically twitch. However, after a while he managed to compose himself, bringing a hand to his face with a long sigh.

Taking in a deep breath, Murdoc mindlessly fiddled with his necklace before walking down the hallway. He knew where he was going. So long as the other girls were still living, he was certain that Evelyn would continue to defy him. A renewed smirk appeared on his face when the thought of the teens' fates crossed his mind, his pace quickening as he grew more anxious.

It was a long walk back, but Murdoc at last arrived at the basement where he had locked the girls away. But as he got closer, the caretaker saw that the door was open only slightly. With every step he took, the angrier he became. By the time he arrived at the door, Murdoc was beside himself with rage.

He swung open the door all the way, gazing inside an empty room. The candles still burned innocently, dimly lighting up the old basement. Nothing was disturbed; it was as if no one had ever been there.

A blanket of silence fell over the phony caretaker, his form going completely still. His face was twisted with anger and shock, momentarily stunned. Murdoc asked himself over and over how they could have gotten away, unable to come up with any plausible reasons. His expression then shifted until it only showed rage, snarling and visibly trembling.

The dark-haired man then turned away from the basement suddenly, whirling around quickly. Losing control of his anger, Murdoc flipped end tables, smashed vases, and kicked dents and holes in the wall. But then, he stopped, his head hanging low. Several seconds passed before he moved again, standing tall with a short chuckle.

"No matter. They won't get far…"

His pace quickened, Murdoc stormed down the hallway, mentally recalculating his next course of action. He was more than confident that the girls would not get away, no matter where they managed to crawl away to.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty Five**

Evelyn was seething in anger and contempt, Murdoc's parting words repeating themselves over and over again. With trembling hands she stood from the couch, unable to shake the feelings rushing through her. Light from the single ceiling bulb cast grim shadows over the distraught teenager, accenting the anguish in her expression.

She paced the room with anxious steps, her mind clogged with worrying thoughts and scenarios. Evelyn was overwhelmed with it all, wanting nothing more than to cry out at the top of her lungs, to let all of the emotion bottled up inside out. The teen managed to keep quiet, however, as rational thought slowly returned to her frazzled mind.

_Are the girls really gone? Should I believe him? _Evelyn asked herself with a frown, ceasing her nervous pacing to stare at her feet. All she had to go on for her fellow orphans' fates was what Murdoc told her, and what she thought she saw. Her form frozen in thought, Evelyn furrowed her brow in concentration. _I never actually saw them before I was…_

The oldest teen's musings were interrupted when the only light in the room began to suddenly flicker ominously. With each flash, an electric buzz was heard, the only sound in the room.

Evelyn stared up at the dying bulb with renewed fear in her features, hoping that the light will hold out. Unfortunately it would not; with a final hum the light faded out, casting the teen in complete darkness.

Horror swept over her like unstoppable ocean waves, crashing over and submerging her in complete fear and hopelessness. She remained still as a statue, her mind reeling with panic. She felt as if time had stopped for her, the icy hand of dread creeping down her spine.

As Evelyn flailed around to find something to grab onto, a quick and sudden _thud _wafted through the dark room. The sound made the frightened teen's heart stop; she whirled around to face where she thought the noise originated, though she could not be certain what had caused it.

Just when Evelyn had begun to relax somewhat, an off-key melody from the grand piano completed what the noise before started. The music reverberated through every fiber of Evelyn's being, a hollow pain forming in her chest. Once again she froze, trying frantically to get her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Fortunately for the teenager, she did not have to.

First, a flash, then a series of flickers, the light slowly coming back to life. The sight sent joy and relief surging through Evelyn, now finally able to see again. What the illumination revealed, however, quickly replaced those feelings with ever familiar shock and surprise.

Standing by the piano was the strange blue-haired killer, unmoving, his solid white eyes locked onto Evelyn. His hand rested on the ivory keys, explaining the random not she had heard. Clasped in his other hand was a pair of garden shears, the blades spotted with a dark brownish red substance. Evelyn had a fairly good idea as to what it was, but forced herself not to react. Instead, she willed her trembling voice to work.

"W-who are you? How did you get in here?"

The Scissorman blinked, the first movement he made since the light came back on. For about a minute he continued to stare, glaring daggers at the confused teenager. Evelyn dared to speak again, this time taking a step back. "You must be the murderer… You and Murdoc working together?"

"It's time for you to go now. You're not needed," stated the shears wielder, pulling away from the piano and bringing his weapon of choice before him. As he limped toward Evelyn, she took more steps back. Seeing the toothy grin spread across his face sent a whole new wave of terror through the dark-haired teenager. "Mary no longer needs to watch over 'er lamb. She'll be well taken care of."

"What are you talking about?"

Evelyn was not answered. The blue-haired killer opened his blades wide, the friction between them giving off an echoing metallic shriek. Frightened, Evelyn retreated farther back, pressing against the wall. As the Scissorman drew closer, something inside her gave her the energy and the will to fight back.

As the killer jabbed his shears forward to strike her, Evelyn grabbed a three-pronged candle holder from a nearby shelf and brought it in front of her. The holder stuck fast into the middle of the blades, stopped the attack. What was only seconds before a one-sided fight quickly turned into a power struggle of sorts, both of them straining from the others' strength.

Angered, the Scissorman wrenched his shears to the side, throwing off Evelyn's balance. As she fell, the candle holder was tossed away, far out of the teen's reach. With fearful eyes, she looked up at her potential killer, his lanky form towering over her. Grinning still, the strange-looking man held up the closed blades, preparing to strike.

Before he could react, a stinging pain shot up his injured leg and he collapsed. He quickly came to realize that, as Evelyn scurried out of reach, it was she who had kicked him. His frustration showing, the killer struggled to his feet after retrieving his shears. Having the chance to take in his appearance for a brief moment, Evelyn could see that the shears wielder was quite young, perhaps around her own age. Questions ran rampant in her mind, trying to determine who this boy was and what he was doing in the mansion.

"I'll ask you again. _Why _are you here?" Evelyn demanded, her voice much steadier this time. Now recovered from his fall, the killer faced her with a glare.

"I've always been here."

Evelyn was baffled by his words, but had no time to dwell on it when her attacker lunged forward again. She moved out of the way just in time; the blades embedded deep into the piano she had been in front of, the wood splintering and cracking from the blow. A pang in her chest formed when she saw what had happened, holding back a sob as the Scissorman pulled out his weapon with some difficulty.

Overcome with fear, Evelyn cried out, desperate to get help. She dodged the sharp steel when it lurched toward her, the tears stinging her eyes. Finally she fell in a corner of the room, exhausted and terrified. As the killer shambled towards her, his expression appeared grim, as if he were about to recite a eulogy.

"No one can help you now, just as you couldn't help the others," he said, the bleak facial features shifting slightly as a small grin tugged at his lips. "You have nothing to lose, yet you still fight back. Entertaining, at the very least."

Evelyn felt a weight settle in her chest at the strange boy's cruel words, feeling that he was right. What _did _she have to live for? _I see now. Murdoc must have sent him to put me out of my misery. The girls are gone, and I will finally join them._

The killer lifted his large shears as high as he could, the closed blades aimed at Evelyn's chest. The broken teenager only sat where she fell, waiting for the end to come. She shut her eyes tight, bracing herself.

"_STUART!"_

Murdoc's voice tore through the thick silence, surprising both the boy and Evelyn. They watched with mixed expressions as the caretaker, previously standing in the doorway, stormed across the room towards the two. The blue-haired shears wielder, a look of terror on his face, began to back away as Murdoc approached.

But his retreat was futile; a quick punch to the face sent the blue-haired boy, apparently named Stuart, to the floor. He was unable to get back up, as Murdoc was on top of him in seconds, his hands wrapped around his thin neck. A struggle ensued, Murdoc easily overpowering Stuart and landing several more harsh hits.

"Get the fuck out of here! Get out!" shouted the caretaker, shoving the badly beaten boy toward the open doorway; Murdoc picked up the discarded shears after doing so. Stuart, his injured leg painfully locking up on him, stumbled and fell again on his way to the door. This incident only served to infuriate Murdoc further. "Wot did I tell you?! Get your sorry arse out of this room!"

Stuart glared over at the dark-haired man, his thick brows furrowing. However, he said nothing and tried to get to his feet.

Evelyn, watching the scene transpire with confusion in her features, quickly stood as Murdoc and Stuart made their way to the door. It all seemed to be happening too fast for her to comprehend; she realized that her assumption for the phony caretaker and the Scissorman being in alliance appeared to be true, or at least somewhat.

_Not only that… _she mentally began, her expression holding a small glare as she clenched her fists and stiffened her jaw. _Murdoc spared me. He robbed me of my reunion with the girls!_

"Murdoc, who is that?" demanded Evelyn, though she was largely ignored by the quarreling killers. Urging herself forward, she spoke out once again. "What is going on here?!"

"Shut up!" Murdoc shouted back as he exited the room. Before Evelyn could get out, the caretaker slammed the door shut. A single click followed, a sound the teenager did not want to hear.

Beyond infuriated, Evelyn began pacing the room again, conjuring up another plan of action.

Now out of the room to where Evelyn could not hear them, Murdoc practically dragged Stuart to a different chamber to have a word with him. Releasing the tight grip he had on the younger killer's peculiar blue hair, Murdoc pulled the door closed after flipping on a light switch.

In the bright light, Stuart could see every ounce of anger in the caretaker's features, his blood running cold when his beady black eyes stared him down. He took a few steps back, his hurting leg giving out on him in the process. Stuart could only look on from where he fell as Murdoc now towered over him.

"And just _wot _was that stunt you pulled about? Hmm?" Murdoc was given no reply, only a blank stare from pupil-less eyes. Snarling, the dark-haired man pressed his boot-clad foot onto the knee of Stuart's injured leg, earning an agonized cry from him as he futilely tried to remove the offending foot. Satisfied with the response, Murdoc eased up somewhat. "Wot did I tell you to do? They were simple instructions!"

"You didn't hold up your end of the deal." Stuart's insolence was awarded with more pressure on his leg, to which he became quite vocal about. A cold, cruel chuckle was then heard from the phony caretaker.

"Wot _deal_? I ordered you to leave Evelyn alone. Yet there you were, blades drawn and ready," he stated, sneering as he spoke. He then removed his foot from Stuart's leg, seeing hardly a reaction from him. "If you weren't even the _slightest _bit useful to me, I'd have killed you right then and there."

"Ahh, so you do have a weakness after all. I thought you'd be over it by now," Stuart retorted, his eyes narrowing at the remark. His bold statement quickly lost its effect when the blue-haired boy flinched at Murdoc's raised fist. Despite his fear, an out of place chuckle was heard from him.

"Oh shut up you worthless little shit head," Murdoc spat before smacking the still-giggling Stuart before backing off. "I told you to never speak anything about it. We have more pressing matters to attend to."

The caretaker folded his arms behind him as he began walking about the room, falling into deep thought. Stuart watched him from the floor, his leg still hurting him too much to try to stand just yet.

"The other girls have escaped somehow. Evelyn believes they're all dead, and I want it to stay that way." Murdoc stopped, his back facing the downed Scissorman. He turned until he was looking at Stuart over his shoulder, his mismatched eyes narrowed. "Take care of it. I'll get rid of any that cross my path, and I want you to do the same."

"I'll do it. But one will be spared."

"No! I want them _all _gone!" shouted Murdoc, facing Stuart completely. This response angered the blue-haired killer as well; he managed to get to his feet after much difficulty.

"I will leave one alive. I saw what you did to my playmate, and I don't like it at all," Stuart stated, his tone low and level. He had retrieved his shears as he stood, the blood-speckled blades gleaming in the light. "So in retaliation, I went after your whore."

"So… that's wot this is about," pondered the caretaker, his sneer returning to his rugged features. He began pacing again, thinking over the delicate situation. With one girl left alive, it would give Evelyn all the willpower she needed to fight back, that he was most certain of. He knew how reckless Stuart could be; he would not think twice about letting the unlucky soul wander where he and Evelyn could be. He grunted, hating the idea of it. "Fine, keep your little brat. But she is to be confined at all times. Evelyn can't know she's alive. _Especially _her. Understand?"

"As long as you leave 'er alone, as well. Never lay a finger on 'er," Stuart added, he too holding a serious expression. The two stared each other down, searching for even a hint of weakness. When none let up, Murdoc finally replied to Stuart's terms.

"Just keep her out of my sight. Get your ass out there and get the job done."

"One last thing," Stuart began, a ghost of a grin flashing over his face. Murdoc started at him with a suspicious glare, waiting for him to continue. "The door to the music room? It's unlocked."

"Bullshit. I locked that room up tight."

"Are you sure? You were pretty angry… You could have forgotten." The devious smirk that entered the Scissorman's expression threw Murdoc for a loop. He could not be sure if Stuart was fibbing or not, knowing how attentive he could be.

Doubting himself, the dark-haired man briskly made his way to the door and swung it open. Gazing across the hall to where the music room was, Murdoc saw that the door was firmly in place, just as they had left it.

Enraged, he quickly turned to give Stuart a few more hits for lying to him, but stopped when he saw that the blue-haired killer had vanished.


	26. Chapter 26

Man, I'm surprised to see more reviews for this! Really makes my day, I can't thank you all enough!

**Hailey**: Those questions will definitely be answered later on! However, there are clues hidden throughout the story that hint at the answers, if you know where to look. ;D

**GorillazObsessor**: I'm glad you like the Stuart-Gwen dynamic, we really wanted to bring out his creepy/cute side with this. and.. haha, about him being good later, you'll just have to see. Also, you should check out the Clock Tower game, or at least watch a few videos of it. Lovely classic. Thanks again!

**Chapter Twenty Six**

All was quiet in the mansion, not a soul to be seen. What had once incited pleasant emotions now evoked fear and hopelessness to almost everyone trapped inside, like an elegant cruise ship slowly plummeting beneath the vast ocean depths. To Russel, he was not sure which scenario was worse.

He had not seen anyone since hiding from the Scissorman and his encounter with Murdoc, having traveled back to the basement only to find the girls gone. The gardener had been relieved at this discovery, but was also concerned. With the strange blue-haired boy wandering about the mansion, Russel's worry only grew.

_I've got to call for help, _thought the burly gardener, turning a sharp corner on his left.

The hallway stretched a great length, stopping abruptly at a single white painted door. Even in the dull light, Russel could still see its bright form beckoning him. Cautiously, he made his way down the empty corridor, knowing exactly where he was heading.

The door's pearly white surface almost seemed to greet the gardener when he arrived, the artistically decorated brass handle shining from the limited illumination. Sighing quietly, Russel reached out a large hand and turned the knob, surprised that it was even unlocked. The room revealed appeared to be lit up better than the hallway he was in.

"Just as he left it," said Russel as he entered the Study, referring to Murdoc. But he quickly took his statement back when he noticed a pile of broken shards on the floor by the desk. Closing the door behind him, Russel approached the mess with narrowed eyes, inspecting it closely. "Odd…"

But there was no time to sit around gawking at small things. The gardener soon recovered his bearings and began searching the room for anything that could be of use to him, though a quick look yielded nothing. It was not until he opened the middle drawer of an old file cabinet when Russel found a black telephone-a peculiar place for one.

Without hesitation, Russel picked up the receiver, pounding the buttons 9-1-1. As he waited, all he got from the other end was a disheartening dial tone. Baffled, the gardener checked the back of the phone, finding a think rubber-coated chord running through the file cabinet. But the line was clearly disconnected when Russel looked it over, appearing to have been intentionally cut.

"Oh no… I was too late," stated the gardener with a frown, feeling completely helpless. He was sure that any other phone had received the same treatment as this one, knowing there were many. "We're isolated here… all of us. If I could just find a way out…"

Russel's almond eyes trailed over to the window straight ahead, seeing an overturned chair lying in front of it. With this, it was easy for the gardener to deduce that one of the girls must have come to this room. Frowning still, he rapped his thick knuckles on the window, the glass giving an almost musical sound in doing so.

He could tell that the glass in the window had been strengthened in some way, making it almost impossible to break through. As he thought more on it, Russel figured that perhaps the entire first floor windows had been reinforced, obviously to prevent escape.

"Then that would mean…" The gardener paused, a look of horror drawn on his face as he continued mentally. _That would mean that all of this was planned beforehand. Could… Murdoc be… Oh god._

Russel could not get out of the Study fast enough, his mission now to find the girls and get as far away from this place as possible.

. . .

There was a particular earth-like scent in the air, the moisture left behind by the storm so thick it nearly had substance. The humidity was a bother, but Maria and Lisa preferred it over being trapped in the terror that was the Tusspot mansion.

Their shoes embedded deep into the oversaturated ground with each step, a distinct squishing and splashing sound the only noise they made. Adding to their footsteps, a chorus of crickets and toads drowned out everything else, having come out of their hiding spots after the storm subsided. But even with their nightly serenade blaring as loud as they could make it, it went largely ignored by the two teenagers as they wandered cautiously in the yard.

They did not know which side of the mansion they were on, or how far away the front of the building was from their position. Maria and Lisa did not mind the lengthy walk, as long as they got to the front quickly.

"I can't believe we made it this far," Lisa said lowly, blue eyes continuously scanning and searching their surroundings. Maria also kept a close lookout for any unwanted intruders, nodding in agreement with her friend.

"If only Paula were here with us…"

A collective silence fell over the two; even the frogs and insects quieted themselves, as if paying respects. They had not been able to let their friend's death sink in until now, their focus being on escaping. But the memories came flooding back at full force, catching the teenagers off guard. Maria was the first to recover, shaking her head a few times before walking on.

"Come on. We have to get out of here."

"Right…" Lisa shook the feelings away also, following close behind Maria. As they continued on along the large yard, the teens began to notice elegant plants covered in dormant flowers. It was not long until they came across the huge garden.

Gardenias, tulips, daffodils, hibiscus, and flowerless rose bushes made up only a fraction of what the garden consisted of, possibly because that was all Lisa's flashlight revealed to them. Row after row of shrubbery lined the twisting stone path that directed them to an impressive greenhouse, its darkened form rising high above the plants it looked after.

"This garden is huge!" Lisa cried in amazement, picking an orange hibiscus flower and smelling it. A smile made its way into her expression. "I haven't been to this garden before, only the one in the front. Mr. Hobbs did a nice job on this one."

"We don't have time to play with flowers, Lisa," Maria reminded her friend, a frown clearly visible in her features. The blonde-haired teenager stood to attention, but only after placing the dislodged flower in her golden tresses. Rolling her eyes, Maria continued. "If we're in this garden, then we're at the back of the mansion. Better head back so we'll end up at the gate."

"Wait Maria, look!"

Lisa, her flashlight pointed at the ground, indicated to the thing of interest with her free hand. Maria, curious, walked over to her to get a look. Astonishment quickly surfaced in her expression.

A large spot of splattered blood was seen as the subject of interest; it looked as if it were relatively fresh. Shining the light to their left, the two teens spotted more gruesome splatters leading to the greenhouse nearby. Even the door had a great amount of the drying life-giving liquid staining its surface.

"Lisa, we shouldn't go in there," Maria warned as her blond friend tentatively made her way along the trail of blood; she stopped at Maria's cautionary words, but did not face her when she gave a reply.

"It could be someone needing help."

"Or a trap."

Lisa gave great consideration for what she was told, but her curiosity and the possibility that it could be someone in need spurred her into carrying on toward the greenhouse. It was like she was being called, Lisa felt; there was no avoiding it. Maria, she too having the same feeling, eventually followed her remaining comrade, though she was not very keen on the ordeal.

. . .

The storm had passed, but the gloom remained. Elsie, alone, traveled along the lonely hallways of the mansion, hoping to come across the others and finding a way out. The religious teenager would check unlocked doors and peer inside, seeing if there were anyone hiding away.

_They've got to be around here somewhere, _Elsie told herself, a frown on her face as she continued down the corridor. A chilling thought crossed her mind soon after, one that she wished to never think of again. _What if they're all dead?_

She shook the thought away, horrified that such a notion would even make itself known to her. Hardly paying attention, the teenager opened a door that she found unlocked.

Inside of the room was pitch black; not even the weak illumination of her lighter could pierce the darkness. However, her eyes could faintly pick up an outline of something lying on the floor. When curiosity eventually got the better of her, Elsie cautiously stepped inside.

The closer she came to the unknown object, the more gruesome her surroundings became. An unsightly amount of blood was seen splattered at her feet, the floor itself appearing to have a watered down, mildewed look, a vast contrast to the richly decorated carpeting just outside. Elsie knew what was at the end of this blood trail; all she wanted to know was _who_.

There, in what Elsie figured was the center of the room, was the lifeless body of the mansion's electrician, Dave. Even in the bad lighting, the saddened teenager could see that he had been mercilessly and repeatedly stabbed until he was no more. Holding back her tears, Elsie kneeled down and placed a gentle hand on what she saw was his shoulder, closing her eyes and falling still.

Her prayer was cut short when the colored girl heard shuffling from somewhere in the room. She quickly got to her feet, straining her eyes to see who the intruder was, but it was hopeless. It was much too dark.

"Who's there?" she called out, taking a few steps back toward the door. As she had expected, she was not answered.

Just as Elsie was only a few feet away from the door, a light was unexpectedly switched on. The light from the single bulb above revealed everything inside the room, and the carnage that had taken place there. Surprised and appalled, Elsie's almond eyes looked onto the other occupant in this chamber filled with gore.

At first glance, she did not recognize the tall, thin boy. But a look at the garden shears he held in one of his hands instantly brought the recollection of Gwen's warning, back when she and the other girls were locked in the basement. The Scissorman.

He stood at the opposite side of the room, a hand still raised next to a light switch with a wide grin on his face. Fearful of the shears wielder, Elsie kept her distance, unable to help but voice her thoughts.

"Gwen wasn't lying after all…"

Stuart became very attentive at Elsie's remark, lowering his head to grasp the second handle of his weapon and opening it. His unsettling grin still remained.

"Of course she wasn't. Gwen would never lie about me," he said, earning a perplexed look from the colored teenager. She had taken a few steps back as the killer lifted his shears before him; he spoke up again soon after. "You should have heeded her warning."

Elsie pondered over Stuart's words carefully, eventually coming to a conclusion that she did not wish to have. As the lanky boy drew closer, she dared to speak again.

"What do you want with Gwen? You're a sick bastard like Murdoc, aren't you?!"

"I'm sick, but I'm nothing like _him_," answered Stuart with a disgusted sneer, though it was quickly replaced by a grin as he recalled Elsie's first question. "I want nothing. I've already gotten what I was after."

Appalled, the colored teenager stepped back once more. Her concern fell to Gwen, wondering if she was alright wherever she was. She also hoped that her previous assumption was incorrect.

No longer wishing to talk, Stuart lunged forward, aiming to strike Elsie. Not wanting to share the same fate as Dave, the teen darted out of the room and down the hall; the Scissorman relentlessly pursued her.

Elsie made a sharp left at a hallway intersection, her gowned form disappearing behind the wall. Stuart calmly followed, confident that he would catch up with her eventually.

. . .

"I don't like this, Lisa," Maria stated, clearly unnerved at the situation, but trying her hardest not to show it. Lisa ignored her friend, her focus entirely on the greenhouse before them. Reaching out a manicured hand, she slowly pushed the door open.

Lisa shined her flashlight into the dark interior of the structure, its light revealing the unsightly amount of blood strewn all over the place. Oddly enough, the two saw nothing that could have been where the blood came from, just the horrific sight left behind.

"Okay, there's no one here. Let's go," Maria urged, lightly tapping her blonde friend's arm to get her attention. It was quickly brushed off as Lisa stepped farther inside.

"Hold on, I hear something. Can't you?"

The Asian teenager went to snap back that she could not and that they need to leave, but the words lodged in her throat when her ears picked up a strange, low rumbling sound. They could not determine the source of the noise; it seemed to emanate from the walls themselves.

Just as the two were about to back out of the unsettling area, the light from Lisa's mechanical torch landed on a twitching black mass in the farthest corner. The sight frightened them, even more so when that unknown form began to shift and move forward. The rumbling sound had morphed into a ragged moan, an eerie death rattle.

"What the fuck is that thing?!" Maria cried out, already in the doorway. A morbid curiosity kept her from fleeing, no matter how many times she told herself she should.

Lisa appeared frightened as well, but did not move from her spot, as if unable to. Her blue eyes wide, the trembling blonde willed herself to answer. "It's… It's… P… Pau…"

Maria did not need her friend to finish her response, instantly aware of what she was trying to say. The two could only stare in shock and horror as the gruesome sight crawled towards them.

It appeared to be a badly injured Paula, bloodied and broken as she used only her arms to move forward. Her black hair hid most of her face, but what Maria and Lisa could see of it almost made them avert their eyes in fright. There was practically nothing left.

_"Mariaaa… Lisaaa…" _A sickening crunch was heard as this monstrous body's neck twisted in an impossible way, the bones clearly broken. Dead, rotting gray arms pulled and drug, the cackling noise increasing in volume. Along with the cracking and dripping of blood, it was like a chorus of death and horror. _"Why didn't you come? Why were you not there?"_

The wispy voice was enough for the two teenagers. With horrified screams, they fled, finding nowhere to go but back inside. Lisa's flashlight, dropped in the panic, lay still in the damp grass, its light still shining on the frightening sight as it slowly vanished in a wisp of black smoke.

. . .

Stuart gave a wide grin once he spotted Elsie darting up the stairs and into a room before closing the door, a sense of triumph surging through him. He calmly limped toward the sealed off room, his mind churning with ways he could end her life. The young killer's amusement only grew when he found that she had not locked the door.

Old hinges shriek in protest as the door was slowly opened. Stuart stepped into the dark room, blades drawn and his eyes scanning the area. His grin soon faded when he could not immediately locate Elsie, his thick brows furrowing. Confused, the killer ceased his walk, dropping his guard as he looked around, searching for his prey.

A cold chill traveled down Stuart's spine, the hairs on the back of his neck standing straight. In response, he goes completely still, listening, waiting. Then, he turns around just in time to see Elsie charge toward him with a lamp raised level with her head.

Stuart blocked the object from hitting him by grabbing it mid-strike, his expression now oozing with anger. Frightened by his stare, the teenager shoved him as hard as she could.

The Scissorman, unprepared, stumbles back and falls, his shears tumbling over several feet away. This gave Elsie enough time to run out of the room and shut the door; she then frantically pushed several pieces of furniture in front of it. End tables, chairs, she used anything that was heavy enough to barricade the door.

She saw the door handle jiggle violently soon after, followed by a few pounds on the old wood. An angered shout, muffled by the wall between killer and victim, was heard, the sound unnerving Elsie.

"You fucking _bitch_! That's not fair!"

Elsie stood in momentary stunned silence, staring at the trembling door with honey brown eyes wide with fear. She regarded Stuart as a creature of sorts, a wild animal freshly plucked from the untamed jungle. Such a thing is dangerous, she concluded, and must be locked away.

"Who are you, really?" Though the question was directed to the trapped and angry Scissorman, her volume was low and breathless, as if she did not want him to hear it. He certainly did not.

Suddenly, the tip of Stuart's closed shears erupted from the center of the door, startling Elsie. The blades were removed, then stabbed through again, sticking farther out this time. Seeing enough, the colored teenager turned and bolted down the hallway, not wanting to hang around should he find his way through.

Stuart, still seething, halted his task when the sound of duel screaming entered his sensitive ears. He appeared to be concentrating, his form completely still. But then, a grin spread across his face before turning to a door located to the far right wall. The killer knew it led to the next room over, and pulled his shears from the door.

. . .

They had not looked back since they had started running from the horror they thought they saw. Frantically, Maria and Lisa scrambled back into the mansion through the exit they created, not caring for where they were going, so long as they got away from that _thing_.

Not watching where she was going, Maria stumbled over a lump in the rug and fell. She landed hard on her left knee, and was temporarily incapacitated. However, Lisa failed to stop and see if her friend was alright, instead running on without her.

"Lisa, wait!"

The blonde teen glanced back at Maria over her shoulder, but continued to run. It was not long until her form disappeared into the darkness, Maria's cries for her to return chasing behind her.

She dashed up the flight of stairs to the darkened second floor, heading for the last ounce of familiarity left in the horrific building. Seeing the doors to their former rooms straight ahead, Lisa raced toward them, hardly noticing the pile of furniture gathered in front of what used to be Evelyn, Rosie, and Gwen's room.

Opening the door, the solitary teenager stepped inside and closed it, panting heavily and trying to drown out Maria's voice. She knew she should go back and help her friend, but images of Paula's grotesque form came rushing back, petrifying her.

Lisa's heart skipped a beat when she heard a bump, then a thud from somewhere in the room. She turned around quickly, unable to determine what had created the noises. She reached for her flashlight, but soon realized that she dropped it in her mad dash to get away from the garden. _Damn it…_

The blonde heard a shuffle; looking ahead, her blue eyes spotted a tall figure move in front of a window. A stray flash of lightning briefly lit him up for Lisa to see.

The first thing she saw were his solid white eyes. The next was the large pair of garden shears he was holding, and the grin on his face. He was in front of her in seconds, blades opened wide.

A scream could be heard, though it was abruptly cut off with a single snap. The sound of two heavy things hitting the floor followed soon after.


	27. Chapter 27

I just wanted to take a minute to say, "wow". My friend and I never expected our story to be as liked as it is. I posted it expecting some views, maybe a review or two, but this… I just would like to thank you all, on behalf of me and my friend, for reading this and enjoying it. It really means a lot. :')

So anyway, here's the next chapter. Until next time!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Seven**

It took a massive amount of courage just to leave the safety of the storage room, her dark gray eyes checking every spot of the empty hallway before wandering out. After her frightening encounter with the blue-haired killer, Gwen's entire form was trembling uncontrollably.

Slowly and cautiously, the redhead made her way along the corridor, not knowing where to go or who to turn to. She felt hopeless and alone, walking aimlessly in a house of horrors. Any sort of friendly companionship was welcomed by Gwen, no matter who they were.

_No one's around… They're all gone, _thought Gwen with a frown, passing by what she recognized as Rachel's room. It was not long until she came upon the hallway where she and the others stayed. As she drew closer, Gwen noticed a precarious pile of furniture cluttered up in front of the door that led to her former room, a brow raised in confusion.

Then, when the redhead stopped at the doors, she spotted a rather gruesome trail of blood stretching out of Paula, Maria, and Lisa's room and down the rest of the hallway and beyond, as if someone was dragged. Gwen's immediate response was to go back the way she came, but her curiosity eventually overruled her fear, and she carefully carried on. _What if it was…?_

Her thoughts were cut short when a shrill metallic noise sliced through the silence, the sound echoing in Gwen's ears. Seconds after, the same sound was heard, following an almost rhythmic pattern. Amongst the noise, the curious redhead could also hear a faint humming as she continued to follow the gory trail; it became more pronounced when she approached a room with its door wide open, darkness filling up the inside.

Gwen tentatively peered into the room, eyes widening once spotting the Scissorman sitting on the large windowsill. Light from the moon outside revealed that the metallic shrieking came from him running a slate down the blades of his shears, sharpening them. He, of course, was the one humming.

"I was wondering when you'd come out," said Stuart to Gwen, who gave a small gasp in surprise. Before she could run off, he continued. "Looking for Evelyn, are you? How lonely you must be."

"You… know about Evelyn?" The preteen's fear momentarily melted away at the mention of her friend, looking at the killer with hope in her eyes. However, Stuart placed his own eyes back to the weapon in his lap, a small smile appearing in his features.

"Why don't you come in here play with me? We can finish that game you started earlier…"

"Where's Eve!?" Gwen shouted, stomping her foot in frustration. Stuart appeared perplexed at her outburst, his smile vanishing. He moved the shears from his lap and placed them beside him, freeing his hands.

"Who?"

"Evelyn!"

"Ahh, I might know where she is," Stuart replied, a grin returning to his darkened face. Gwen lit up at his words, but quickly forced her excitement back down, remembering who she was talking to. "I'll bring you to her, but on one condition…"

"W-what do you want?" Gwen's caution was as clear as day to Stuart. Still keeping his grin, he stood from the windowsill and approached her. The redhead was unnerved, but remained where she was.

"Does it really matter?" As he said this, Stuart ran a gentle finger under the redhead's chin. Afraid of the sudden contact, Gwen slapped his hand away and backed up a few steps. The killer's grin faded, his expression going blank. "Now, now, no need to get testy. If you accompany me to Evelyn's location, I'll show you where she is."

"Why are you doing this?"

"It's funny how you're so determined to find Evelyn, even when she feels the way she does," Stuart stated nonchalantly, changing the subject. Gwen, confused, asked him what he meant. A sudden glare in his features, Stuart spoke again. "Do you want to see her or not?"

"Okay! Okay! I'll follow you…" Gwen blurted out, lowering her eyes in surrender. The killer, delighted to hear this response, returned to the window where his shears lay against, retrieving it. As he returned, the redhead kept her eyes on the floor, unable to face the frightening boy.

"This way," stated Stuart, extending a hand before him while looking at Gwen. She, uncertain, began walking down the dark hallway, the Scissorman right behind her. The trail of blood continued along as well, until they were only a few feet from the stairs leading to the first floor. A large pile of blood lie at its end, a peculiar dripping adding to it.

Perplexed, Gwen looked up to see where the leak was coming from, gasping in horror at the even bigger stain on the ceiling. Stuart, however, does not react, walking on without any sign of stopping. Still very afraid of the odd boy, but wanting to see Evelyn again, Gwen ran to catch up with him.

. . .

Elsie ran until she simply could no longer. She found herself down a hallway that came to an abrupt end, a door barely seen in the darkness. A sigh passed through her lips, wondering where to head. Turning back meant facing the Scissorman, his intentions very obvious.

_What hope is there? _thought the colored teenager with watering eyes, though she refused to let the tears fall. There was no point in it, she told herself, and would get her nowhere but being discovered. Her lip trembling, Elsie wrapped her arms around herself and cast her eyes to the floor. _There's no way to escape. I can't find the others, and…_

Her thoughts were cut abruptly when a cold chill blew over her from out of nowhere, icy fingers caressing her exposed arms and face. She shivered, her breath coming out in cloudy wisps as she tried to locate the source of the cold.

When her eyes snapped back down the short hallway, a sense of sadness and rage washed over her all at once. She quickly became overwhelmed and stumbled back, her wide eyes still locked ahead of her.

Standing in front of the door was the transparent figure of a woman, her features distorted, but not completely indistinguishable. Elsie recognized it as the phantom she had seen some time earlier. _Rachel…_

As if cued at Elsie's recognition of her, Rachel's ghost floated weightlessly down the narrow path toward the uncertain teenager. Stepping aside, Elsie continued to watch as the specter moved to where the hallway made an abrupt turn. But then, Rachel stopped, her head turning slowly to face her. Suddenly, the apparition flickered out of sight, though it looked as if she had started moving again before she vanished.

_Is she showing me a way out? _asked Elsie to herself, wary of the situation. With great unease, the teenager made her way to the very spot Rachel was standing. Looking ahead revealed the ghost once more, watching her with patient eyes. When Elsie began walking again, the phantom vanished also.

"Where are you leading me, Mrs. Tusspot?"

As she had expected, she was not answered. Instead, the post human consciousness reappeared farther down the corridor, still staring directly into Elsie's uneasy eyes. Then, as the colored teen continued toward her, Rachel lifted a wispy arm to point at a door directly beside her. When Elsie came closer, the ghost faded away for the final time, the cold vanishing with her.

Elsie, the feeling of being the only person present returning, frowned as she looked upon the door in which Rachel had pointed out. It was no different than the other doors in the hallway, other than being locked. The teen thought long and hard, trying to remember any familiarity with it. But she could not. She did, however, remember the key she had found in the Study and fished it out of her pocket.

A half-amused chuckle burst through her lips. "It's a long shot, but I'll go for it."

With a twist of her wrist, Elsie jabbed the old key into the lock and turned it. To her great surprise, the latch easily gave way and opened, revealing the path it had previously hidden. For a few quick minutes the teen stood there, her jaw practically hitting the floor. But she soon recovered, a small smile appearing on her face. "Well what do ya know, it bloody worked!"

. . .

Maria, gently rubbing her injured knee, cursed under her breath at what Lisa had done. To ditch her at a time like this was unthinkable, even for her. She managed to stumble to her feet, her mind conjuring up all that she would say to Lisa once she found her again. But the distant sound of voices sent Maria back to the floor and behind a couch, peering out from one side.

Her mind swirled with confusion once she spotted Gwen traveling down the stairs with an unfamiliar boy, but it quickly switched to shock once she caught a glimpse of the large pair of shears he was dragging behind him. With narrowed eyes, the Asian teen retreated farther behind the couch, just out of sight.

_So _he _must be the 'Scissorman' the munchkin was talking about, _she assumed, falling still when the two came to a stop. _But if he's such a psycho murderer, why is she hangin' out with him?_

"Why'd we stop?" asked Gwen with a frown; Maria listened intently to their conversation, the two appearing to be unaware of her presence. She watched the boy with peculiar blue hair face Gwen with a seemingly cheerful grin.

"I just had a good idea for a game," Stuart replied, earning a look of contempt from the redhead. Ignoring the glance, he continued. "Evelyn is more than likely smashing grapes right about now."

"What are you talking about? I wanna see Eve!"

"Shh, shh, listen." Stuart paused, using his free hand to bring Gwen close. The preteen was uncomfortable with the closeness, but allowed the killer to lean down as if to whisper a secret in her ear. "The game is that you have to find the right room before I do. The only rule is that you can't ask for help."

"What happens if you get there first?" Gwen questioned worriedly, wriggling out of the strange boy's grip. Stuart allowed his target to push away, a grin still plastered on his grayish face.

"You'll just have to see. I gave you my clue, now the game will start." With that said, Stuart rushed through a nearby door and down a hallway. This left Gwen all alone, pondering over what she had been told. Unbeknownst to her, Maria had already snuck out of the room, convinced that Gwen could no longer be trusted.

. . .

She sat alone in an old armchair, glaring, staring at her feet. It was all she could do, being locked away in the dreaded music room, a place mixed with good and bad experiences. One look at the bloody couch across from her sent a wave of nausea over Evelyn, choking back burning bile at the sight.

With a grimace, the teenager turned away, continuing to simmer in her grief and depression. Her will was almost completely smashed, believing she had no reason to keep going. However, a small voice spoke in the back of her mind, telling her not to give up just yet, to hold on a little while longer. Evelyn doubted this feeling, but decided to give it a chance.

No sooner had she made up her mind, the dreaded sound of hurried and firm footsteps resounded throughout the room Evelyn was trapped in. Instantly filled with terror, the dark-haired teen stood from the chair and retreated farther back in the room.

As expected, the door to the room, after being unlocked, swung open with great force. Murdoc soon appeared in the doorway, looking flustered and angry. Evelyn glared at him, the sight of him filling her with disgust and dread. Seeing this, Murdoc's troubled glance morphed into a grin, his teeth flashing in the weak light.

"Evelyn… there you are," he said lowly, earning a baffled look from the dark-haired teenager. Still smiling, Murdoc stepped farther into the room, holding out a bony hand before him. "This room… it's too cramped, isn't it?

"What you need is a nice, spacious… secure place," continued the phony caretaker, walking forward even when Evelyn backed away. With a glare that came with the sudden rise in anger, Evelyn stomped her foot before shouting back at him.

"I'm not going anywhere with you!"

"Now, now. There's no need to yell." With a firm yank, Murdoc grabbed the defiant teen's thin wrist and pulled her toward him. Despite the verbal protest from Evelyn, the caretaker practically dragged her to the open doorway, a grin still pasted on his olive-colored face. "I know you have fond memories of this room, but we must be going."

"Please, Murdoc! Stop this madness!" Evelyn cried again, on the verge of tears, "Why are you doing this?!"

Even as the two made their way down the corridor, Murdoc fell silent at her question. For a moment, it looked as if he were contemplating Evelyn's request. But the look soon faded and he chuckled. "Why would I ever want to stop? I'm having way too much fun."

"Only a sick man would think this nightmare is _fun_."

After they had traveled some distance, the psychotic man appeared to become progressively unhinged. His eyes darted to and fro, appearing to search every detail of their surroundings. Evelyn could also hear him mumble to himself, though his tone was so low that the teen could not make out a single word.

Turning a corner, the two came to a relatively short hallway that ended at a single door, its surface like a beacon in the night. Evelyn was unfamiliar with the room they were walking towards, and she was certain Murdoc knew it.

"You'll be safe in this room. Stuart's tunnels do not lead here."

"Tunnels…?" Evelyn voiced her confusion, only to remember the strange blue-haired boy that had tried to kill her. She and Murdoc were only a few feet away from the door when she spoke again. "You never told me who that boy was, and why he's here."

"It doesn't matter. He won't bother you again," stated the dark-haired caretaker before unlocking and opening the door. He forced Evelyn inside, switching on the lights once he stepped in next. The terrified look on her face did nothing to stop his approach. "Now, be a good girl for me and hold tight. I'll be back for you later."

As he spoke, Murdoc ran his hand up Evelyn's bare leg and under her red skirt. Scowling in disgust, the teenager quickly slapped his hand away. A chuckle was heard from him, clearly amused at Evelyn's reaction. "Well, see you later, love."

Relief swelled up in Evelyn when Murdoc left the Study, though it was also accompanied by dread when she heard the click of a lock. Sighing, the distraught teenager pressed against a wall and slid down into sitting position. It took all she had not to let the tears that stung her eyes fall, though a few managed to sneak through.


End file.
